Ever since Elizabeth had given her father a date, there now seemed to be a never-ending onslaught of questions. Guest lists, menus- the illustrating of a picture perfect wedding, it all depended on Elizabeth. Flowers, ribbon, candles, stationary… It was all incredibly distracting. But she took it head on. The simple, trivial problems pushed the larger distresses away from her attention.

The Governor, being the public figure that he is, idealized a large wedding with guests from all sorts of places with all sorts of titles. His daughter and he got into numerous arguments concerning the guest list- She preferred a smaller, less superfluous wedding. After speaking with the Commodore, compromise was reached for a wedding not very big but not so private either.

The relationship between Elizabeth and James became a deal more affable, as they were spending time together cooperating and in various ways supporting one another, getting through the toils of daily life. They could call one another good friends, besides acquaintances and fiancées.

In her earlier years, Elizabeth remembered being fairly casual around the Commodore- or Lieutenant, as he was then. She didn't see past his uniform as a child. As a commanding officer, his demeanor was iron-sided. But as she matured, being more emotionally attuned, she could see Norrington was very reserved around her, and it was not just out of plain propriety. She could sense his affections for her, however subtle they may be expressed. She was sorry to say she could not say this was mutual- it would make things so much easier. The thing that irked Elizabeth the most was that he was never out of uniform- always the British officer or British gentleman.

Concerning the organization of the wedding, Norrington left most of the selection to Elizabeth as she liked, but once and a while he would offer a suggestion or point something out as particularly agreeable or disagreeable. There wasn't any incident of notable conflict; both of their tastes were similar- fairly simple and elegant. Most of the disagreement was between Elizabeth and her father. Norrington stayed out of these arguments.

Concerning the wedding dress, Norrington was not included, as it was tradition. Only as a bride was walking down the aisle would the groom first see the gown. The dress Elizabeth had chosen was long, elegant and cream-colored, with pearly embroidery and detail. Long sleeved with a flowing veil and train. Elizabeth, like many daydreaming girls had long dreamed of her wedding gown.

On the day the seamstress came to fit it, Elizabeth's breath had been taken away. It was amazing; it seemed to manifest straight out of her thoughts. Elizabeth, standing in front of a three-panel mirror spun about, holding the folds of the skirt out at her sides.

"Beautiful, ma'am," the seamstress said, kneeling at the hem, pinning it up. Estrella seconded the comment, as she stood aside by the bedpost.

"Thank you," the bride said with a faraway look into the mirror. She pictured the moment, standing at the back of the church, with all the flowers and ribbons decorating. There would be music in the air, coming from the piano and strings, as she walked up the aisle past the familiar faces-

To the Commodore.

Elizabeth was suddenly aware of the weight of all the fabric, the pinch of her shoes, the constriction of her corset, and the heat of the air coming in through the open windows.

All this time she had been planning the wedding of her fantasies, and every detail was coming together wonderfully- except it was all for something she did not want to go through with. James Norrington was not the groom in her imaginings. William Turner's visage appeared before her in her mind's eye, standing across from her at the altar, saying, "I do." There was not a day that she went on not entertaining the idea that it was actually Will that she was marrying. It was the only thing that kept her going on to make the planning decisions.

Yes, she was lying to herself. She admitted this to herself every night as she laid her head on her pillow. But if it alleviated some mental distress, even momentarily, she didn't have the heart to care. In moments when she could not pretend, as when she was facing the Commodore, she took a leaf out of the navy's book- put on a fighting face and push forward. In Elizabeth's case, a fighting face was a false smile.

"I don't want to be married!" The sentiment resonated in Elizabeth's head. "Not now! Not to the Commodore!" She blinked rapidly, denying tears of sorrow and frustration from spilling onto her skin. She wanted to tear off the dress and throw it out the window, to be ruined by the next rainstorm. But she could not. She stood silent before the mirror, loathing the person staring back at her in the mirror.

Why couldn't she be more courageous? She could run away with Will; they could rendezvous with Jack Sparrow, and sail across the seas for the rest of their days. They would be happy, they would be together… But was that courage or cowardice- abandoning the marriage? Elizabeth scolded herself, thinking of such a fool's ideas. She was being selfish, and cruel to Norrington. She had dedicated herself to this engagement, and she would not slink away. She would hold her head high as she marched down the aisle, with as much as a granite demeanor as her soon-to­-be husband.

Maybe she could learn to love him.

Putting a stop to her tumultuous reverie, Elizabeth turned to the seamstress. "It's wonderful." Her voice cracked as she said this, and she hoped the old woman would confuse this with a sob of joy. She must have, for she gave the Governor's daughter a smile. "My father will have the payment to you then, within the week," Elizabeth continued, retaining a formal tone. "Thank you again."

The woman took this as her dismissal, and left after curtsying. Estrella set to taking the dress off. "You are very beautiful miss," the servant girl said, echoing the seamstress's prior comment.

"Do you really think so, Estrella?" Elizabeth asked, only half registering the discourse.

"Oh yes, miss. Marriage is always such a beautiful, blessed occasion."

"Yes," Elizabeth sighed, her eyes dull, disillusioned. "A blessed occasion…"

Author's Notes: I am glad to have updated so soon again... I hope you are enjoying this story. Please leave any question, comment and/or critique; it can be concerning anything such as the writing style, the plot, the characterization- Readers thoughts are all highly valued; I'll be sure to respond.