One step forward. And then two.
The dark corridor ended and the next chamber came with one last step. Golden light flooded around Elizabeth as she passed through the final doorway. As her eyes adjusted to the glittering chamber, she took in the familiar sight. It was the entrance hall of her fathers manor, lit by the rising sun in the east. A sight she had taken in countless times before.
Elizabeth let the tips of her fingers run over the ornate wooden newel. It wobbled due to the years that she had swung on it after racing down the stairs each morning, usually as her father called from the carriage condemning her tardiness with a smile.
But her doting father was not present in this dreamland. His frantic words of things to do and people to greet did not echo through the manors walls. The comforting hum of servants cooking and cleaning was absent too. Even the birds on the roof couldn't be heard singing as they built their nests. All the little sounds that Elizabeth liked most were gone. All was silent.
'Finally,' a familiar haughty voice split the air. 'What's taken so long?'
A figure that had not been there at first now stood by one of the large bright windows. Though the blinding light confused Elizabeth's eyes and veiled the figures features, she knew who the figure was.
'I don't know,' she heard herself say. 'I've been trying to get back to you-'
Lord Beckett turned with his arms crossed over his chest. He rested casually against the window edge, his posture lax and weary as he leaned to one side as usual. 'What are you on about? We really must be going, you've taken hours to dress. It's nearly dusk already.'
Elizabeth's brow pulled together curiously. What he said was true, the sun that she had been so blinded by just a moment before now only cast small streams of sunlight through the drapes of the hall. 'I've. . .' the streams moved even as she watched, bringing night closer and closer by the second. 'I don't want to go,' her voice cracked under the stress of tears. 'I feel like I've been going for so long.'
'Then we stay,' he said with a shrug.
'Yes,' barely came from Elizabeth's throat as she gave a short nod.
Her feet slowly brought her across the darkening hall, towards the center. By the time she reached it, the last of the golden rays of light had gone, leaving the two only able to see by the moonlight seeping in from the windows. Elizabeth outstretched her hand for Lord Beckett, who still stood by the window, just a shadow now. As wordlessly beckoned, he approached.
The tips of her fingers touched the fine silk of his waist coat first and trailed up to his neck before she put the back of her hand to his cheek. She stepped forward, close enough to him that she could feel his breath against her lips and smell the tobacco on his skin. Elizabeth felt that she could have stood there forever, marveling at how real he felt. But it was only a second that the two were so tame before their lips clashed in a passionate frenzy. Tongues intertwined as their hands roamed each others bodies like desperate beggars starved of food. In a blur of white knuckles and scarlet sighs Elizabeth found her back to the cold marble floor, it's icy surface sending chills across her body, pleasantly contrasting the intense fire that had not been lit within her in so long.
Lord Beckett ran his hand up her smooth leg, bringing the silk and lace layers of her skirts with it. As his be ringed fingers slowly crept up the soft skin of her inner thigh towards the valley of her desires, he brought his lips to her neck. Elizabeth closed her eyes and dedicated each kiss to memory, knowing that soon it would only be that. She let her fingers run up his back and into his hair as he continued kissing her neck and then her breasts.
'Cutler,' she heard in her voice, somewhere far outside of herself.
Just as the sun had set and night had come, it rose once more. The hall which they found themselves entwined in once more filled with ethereal light, casting streams of colours across the marble floor. Elizabeth laid with her golden hair cast around her head like a halo as she watched the lights cross the crystal chandelier which hung from the ceiling like a glory cloud, sending fractures of light all around. As she watched the rainbow orbs pass through and felt her husband over her, worshipping her body, she felt that she may have died and gone to heaven.
'Elizabeth,' a voice said. 'Elizabeth what is this?'
It was Will, standing in the doorway. Her brown eyes found his and her heart plummeted.
Elizabeth woke with a gasp. It was only a dream, yet it felt so real. Her heart pounded against her aching chest, her skin stretched over her bones acting like a drum. A frantic hand, her hand, went to wipe the dew from her forehead and her fingers trailed to her neck, stiff and sore from sleeping upright. With a frustrated sob rested her elbows on the wooden desk before her, which currently displayed a colourful array of bottled demons, and let her face fall into her hands. As the image of a horrified Will burned in her skull, Elizabeth was left wondering if the rising guilt like bile in her throat that she felt would hold any likeness to the guilt she would feel when faced with his real reaction to her deception.
It was safe to say that she didn't care to know.
To combat the feeling of sick Elizabeth reached out for one of the bottles- it was a bottle of amber rum that she had eyed for hours before falling asleep. When taken in hand the smooth liquid sloshed about, tempting her to drown out the taxing thoughts that wracked her mind. Though temptation was hardly necessary- for the last months of this journey Elizabeth found herself frequently passing the time by spending her nights alone, riding the waves of drunken bliss. Of course it didn't take much drinking- with little food in her belly a couple of large gulps sent her body reeling. She would enjoy the feeling of being so light and guilt free as she eventually fell asleep watching the wooden ceiling spin overhead. It was the only way she could silence her conscience even if only for a little while.
Elizabeth put the bottle to her lips, but for the first time in months hesitated to drink herself to a few hours of peace. With a sigh she put the bottle back onto the desk with a thud. She wanted to forget the brief glimpse of Wills devastated face, but she didn't want to forget the rest of the dream. It seemed that her dreams were the only way she still knew her own husband.
'What's wrong with you, Lizzy?' Elizabeth asked herself as she leaned back in the leather chair, imagining that if Jack were still around then he would have asked the same question. Since they had passed through the icy fields and through the glacier gate, Jack had disappeared. He no longer crept from the shadows or appeared when she was alone. More often than not she speculated as to why this was, but could come to no conclusion better than that she was simply mad.
After a moment of thought, she decided that fresh air was a better idea than rum.
Through the wooden doors of the captains cabins, the ship deck was dark and quiet. The soft breeze of damp air hit Elizabeth's skin. She took a deep breath in as she peered out at the unchanging world around her. No land to see, no sea life, no birds. Even the air felt like nothing- neither cool nor warm. It had been so for five days. Elizabeth's fingers ran through her dry sun bleached hair as she meandered across the deck to the only person she felt that she could speak to. Tia Dalma stood near the bow, watching the water that Elizabeth imagined she so desperately longed to return to. After a brief hesitation, she approached the only ally of hers on the ship. She leaned on the wooden railing just as her fellow woman and breathed in the ocean air.
'It's an odd place,' Elizabeth noted out loud as her eyes looked into the heavens at all the glittering stars. 'I've never seen the stars so bright, nor water so calm.'
'We in de passageway,' Tia nodded. 'De world between ours and de farthest. Where dead men taken by de sea pass through in search of peace.'
Elizabeth looked over the side of the ship into the glossy black water. The only thing that she could see was the mirror image of the stars above. She wanted to ask if they would be able to see dead men should any soul pass by, but as the image of Lord Beckett on his way to the next world crossed her mind, she pulled her lips tight. 'Do you know how soon we might be there?'
A midshipmen, one of Sao Feng's men, stalked by. Tia eyed him suspiciously until he passed. 'To Jack Sparrow?' she asked, her voice lower than before as she stepped closer to Elizabeth. 'It come soon. Back to de mortal world. . . come when we- if we-,' she corrected herself- 'unlock de secrets of de charts and find passage back.'
'So you mean there is a chance that we rescue Jack and still we may travel for months?'
'No,' Tia gave a dark smile, one that Elizabeth had learned not to be so frightened of over the past year, but it seemed then that she was once more given reason to be. 'Da water here hold no life. We travel for a week at most.'
Elizabeth didn't need Tia Dalma to explain what she meant. If they did not escape the locker within the week they would certainly face their final end. She bit the soft raw skin of her inner cheek at the thought of never making it back to the mortal world, to her father, or to Lord Beckett. A tear escaped the corner of her eye which she quickly wiped away.
'Why you love 'im?'
'Cutler?' Elizabeth confirmed lowly after a glance over her shoulder towards the darkened deck. 'I don't know. I can't remember what it's like to not love him. I think back to days when I did not know him, when I thought I loved others and yet I feel I loved him then too.'
'Den why you cry?' she pushed. 'Soon you see him.'
'I. . .' Elizabeth's brown eyes searched the dark water for words to put to her feelings. 'It's a horrible feeling that I've had since I left him. I fear that in this strange place I may just pass him by, he entering deaths gates just as I leave-' her knuckles went white as she gripped onto the ships railing in an attempt not to cry- 'A feeling that when I return he may not be waiting for me.'
Elizabeth felt Tia Dalma's hand rest on her shoulder.
'I have an image of him stuck in my mind, the last I saw of him. Standing in the prison corridor in the moonlight-' she used her sleeve to wipe away the blurring tears that pooled in her eyes- 'It is there when I close my eyes so harrowing. I think there is a reason that I have done well to remembered it so, for it was the end. I fear that soon I might know that it is the last memory I have of him to join only the few I have collected.'
'De end is not always so,' she whispered. 'We return to de mortal world within de week, an den. . . he be there.'
'How can you be certain?'
Tia Dalma held out a large silver locket that hung around her neck. 'I have waited many year for de man who I love. . .' she opened the locket and it begun a haunting tune which seemed to echo across the black waters. 'I watch the world me by, imprisoned inside of dis wretched tomb. Always waiting for 'im to come back to me, to be again de man him once was. An soon, I be wit 'im once more. I feel dat I be wit 'im once more. An you, Elizabeth, you too will be returned to de man what you love.' She backed away into the dark shadows of the deck. 'I feel it.'
Elizabeth didn't watch as she did, but instead sat onto a crate with a sigh. One of her fingers went to toy with the ring on her gold necklace as she thought. She wondered at what Tia Dalma had said and if there was any truth to it. 'The bloody woman only appeared out of thin air into your chambers and brought a dead man to life, surely she's right in saying something so simple,' she told herself. It had to be true, after all that had happened it seemed silly to question what the haunting woman said. Elizabeth wanted to believe it was true. And so she turned her attentions to the coming horizon, just barely visible in the darkness. A mist obscured a perfect view, but Elizabeth tried to imagine that as she grew closer to that horizon, she grew closer to all that she missed. A week- only a week, as Tia Dalma said, and she would be back into the warm embrace of the living world.
Footsteps on the wooden deck approached. Elizabeth kept her eyes on the horizon, but turned her head to hear what was going to be said. She didn't need to look to know who it was.
'How long do we continue not talking?' Will asked with little hesitation.
Elizabeth looked at the dark wooden deck and bit her lip. How long had it been? Over a year since they were to wed and yet she had spoken to him only a handful of times, perhaps less. 'Once we rescue Jack everything will be fine,' the lie came across her lips so easily that Elizabeth felt her cheeks burn scarlet in shame. They would find Jack and everything would continue on the same, she hiding within the walls of the ship and he moping about with designs to speak to her. Or, as Elizabeth imagined was the worst possible scenario, Will would assume all their troubles over and so attempt to resume their relationship accordingly. She would then be forced to confess half of her truth and watch Will go down a pitiful spiral as the guilt ate what little remained of her.'You see Will, I simply don't want to be married. Not yet anyways, that's what I'm telling you, so please do not vie for my love. Oh, that ring on my finger that you know that I know that you know was suspicious and certainly still recall? Please disregard that,' Elizabeth's mind went on. She couldn't bare to imagine what telling the whole truth would bring about; that not only did she not want to be married, not to him anyways, and that she married a man who would quite happily have him killed. She opened her mouth to speak, but struggled to answer what he asked of her.
Will let out a breath. 'Then we rescue Jack,' the words sounded certain, but uncertainty crossed Will's features.
Elizabeth watched as Will's eyes searched in the distance for something else to say and held her breath, hoping that there was nothing left. When his silence ensued for another moment, his eyes fell to her. The familiar cool whips of panic ran up her body and she tensed. Her skin prickled at the nape of her neck and all at once she felt her breath quicken and slow. Unable to cope with the ritual pangs of severe discomfort, she pounced from the crate and stalked away into the bow of the ship, to the safety of company where Will would not follow.
Or so she thought.
Just as Elizabeth came to pass Mister Gibbs attending to his canteen of rum., Will rushed passed towards Barbossa who stood at the helm. 'Barbossa, ahead!'
'Aye,' Barbossa nodded enthusiastically. 'We're good 'n lost now.'
Elizabeth pulled her brow together in confusion. 'Lost?' she questioned shrilly.
Barbossa turned to her with his grip tight on the wheel and smiled. 'For certain you have to be lost to find the places that can't be found. . . else ways everyone would know where it was!' His words were lighthearted, as if being lost in a lifeless land was no more of an annoyance than venturing down the wrong street.
Mister Gibbs rushed to the railing and looked over the edge. 'We're gaining speed!'
With a short nod to the crew, Will took it upon himself to lead. 'To stations,' he demanded. With that the crew scrambled to their feet and rushed across the decks, bumping into each other and tripping over sleeping men. 'All hands to stations!'
Elizabeth rushed to the bow of the ship and searched for a task needing done. She spotted one of Sao Feng's men arising from the lower decks through the hatch and held out her hand. 'Is anyone down there?'
'Tā shì kōng de,' the man responded with a shake of his head as he used her to pull himself out.
Taking the answer as an all clear, she battened down the hatch and moved through the small group that stood at the bow.
'Rudder full!' Will shouted to one of the many confused men frantically scaling the mast. 'Hard a port, gather way!'
'Nay! Belay that!' came the barking of Barbossa as he stood proud upon the railing of the ship, his balance aided by his grip on the shrouds. 'Let her run straight and true!'
When the crowd parted, Elizabeth saw before her a coming doom. The mists of a waterfall, speeding closer by the passing second. It's powerful roar grew louder.
'Blimey,' Ragetti breathed.
Elizabeth felt that she would be sick any moment, but instead she turned to Barbossa. 'You've doomed us all,' her voice was full of wrath as she stepped to him.
'Don't be so unkind,' Barbossa smiled. 'You may not survive to pass this way again-' he reached out and took her face between his fingers in thumb, which Elizabeth recoiled to- 'and these be the last friendly words you'll hear.'
When she pulled away, her eyes wondered back to the coming waterfall. There wasn't a chance that she was going to go down so easily. Her feet took her across the deck. 'Hard to port!'
The one who obeyed her command was Will, who pulled hard to change the direction that the sails took them and soon the ship was turning. But it was too late. Just as the ship made its way to turn back, the rushing water was louder than ever. The bow began to raise into the night air.
'Hold on!'
Elizabeth rushed to the side of the ship and took hold of a hanging rope. Just as she did her feet were dangling and men began sliding across the deck, their hands reaching out to take hold of something solid. Screams became louder than the water. The wooden ship moaned in pain as it for only a second hung over the waters edge. Elizabeth swore that for a moment she could hear singing, perhaps that of those taken by these waters. She thought to say a prayer before joining the voices, but knew that she had been long ago forgotten by any god. Instead she replaced her pleas to the heavens with thoughts of her husband. The day when she first knew his name, as she stood in her airy chambers wondering what it was that lead her to marry Will, she admired the poisonous flowers sent by a strange man who would arrest her only hours later. The man who she meant to use, but somehow, despite all that she said, found herself undone by. Memories of their short time spent together swirled in her head. In the final second that she had, Elizabeth looked down to see the endless waterfall that lead to the watery abyss that was Davy Jones' Locker. She closed her eyes and screamed as she and the ship plummeted to their doom.
