The first person to learn about Elizabeth Swann's latest eccentricity was her good father. The old gentleman couldn't have felt more gratitude, or relief – he hadn't dared to entertain any hope that his dear child would ever come to her senses again. For the young blacksmith, he felt some compassion, but only little compared to his other utterly cheerful feelings. He would have told Elizabeth all that, but she had already left him when he woke up from his first frenzy. She hadn't told him very much, only that she had broken up with her fiancé – he slowly got used to that line of behaviour – and then she had asked whether he had been serious when offering her to send her back to England, or for a start, her uncle Clarence in Nassau Port. He had been perplexed with the demand but confirmed his readiness, and not two minutes later, she was gone again. Suddenly, he remembered the most astonishing news he had wanted to tell her – her friend Miss Van Dyke had been here earlier on announcing that she was engaged, and he firmly resolved not to forget about it when Elizabeth would return.

She had summoned all her courage to dare the most humiliating enterprise, sensing that if she didn't do it straightaway, she might never have another chance; tomorrow, she might have lost her courage and next week might be too late. She ran down the hill and over to the fort, terribly out of breath when telling the guard to take her to the Commodore.

"Has anything happened, Miss?" the officer asked her. "Are you all right?"

"Make haste, make haste! I - well, don't worry," she panted, clenching her aching side, and he obeyed. She tried to recompose herself again, and hurried along the officer who cast her worried looks. But she couldn't bother for him right now, she needed to sort out her mind, find some sufficiently intelligent lines to say – and then, she could only hope he wouldn't loathe her forever. As much as she had been in a hurry, when they came to his door, she found that to be much too soon, she'd need some more minutes to restore herself –

But the officer had already knocked, the door was opened, and James looked at her in a mixture of worry and astonishment.

"Elizabeth – has anything happened? Is your father –"

"My father is perfectly fine, I dare say he's never been better," she muttered, closing the door in the officer's curious face.

"But –"

"I know it is very late, I know, but I had to see you!" She felt like fainting, partly because of the running, but much more because of the reason for her visit. He stared at her and she returned his look until she was all dizzy, averting her eyes and continuing – "I had to see you, talk to you – I'm very well aware that –"

"Please sit down! Can I fetch you something?"

"No!" She reached out for his arm to hold him back as he was turning towards the door, letting go at once, shocked with her own dare. "I don't need to sit down, I'll be gone in a minute and – please stay, James, I must talk to you now, or I may never find the courage again! But where to start – it's all so difficult! You must hate me, oh James, when I think of what I've done to you, I wish to sink into the ground, I…"

"But Elizabeth, please calm down! I've understood, and it's – well, fine! I've had plenty of time –"

She groaned, desperate with what he would say next, how he would tell her that he loved her no longer, but she had to speak her mind nevertheless, now or never!

"Please listen to me, James, listen to this, and I will never annoy you again, but I must say it – I've been an idiot! I know, I know – you've been always gracious and good and sweet, so be so good as you've ever been now and listen to me for a second – did I say yet that I'm a terrible fool? I am a fool, a spoilt little girl, and silly and unworthy and – oh god, you will hate me for this, I know –"

"Nothing you could say or do would ever make me hate you, dear," he said, looking rather apprehensive. "One should marry the person one loves, and no one else. I certainly understand that –"

She was squirming, looking into his deep blue eyes and gathering all her valour. "Yes, that's what one should do, and I wish I'd have been less foolish, I wish I had known my own heart better… You're surely much better off without a piffling goose such as myself, but… I love you!"

He did not move, he did not speak, all he did was stare at her in incredulity and she clenched her hands, desperate and low. "I know it's useless and you don't love me anymore, which is – very understandable – but I had to tell you nevertheless. I love you, I've been blind not to see it much earlier and I will bear with whatever shall come – I will go to England actually – I know that you're going to marry Henrietta – she's so much worthier than I am, I can only congratulate you, honestly – whatever makes you happy, you deserve it! You deserve just everything, James!"

He was still petrified, opening his mouth and closing it again, but finally managed to mutter, "What makes you think I was to marry Miss Van Dyke?"

"She came over to tell me that she is engaged –"

"To me?!" She would have laughed with his stupefied expression, but this wasn't the moment for any humour at all, she felt too miserable to do as much as smirk, and he added, "You've got it wrong, dear – she hasn't said that she's marrying me, she can't have!"

"So you're – you're not – but – no, she didn't say… She spoke of 'a sailor', and – well, I was naturally anticipating that it was you, of course, but I wouldn't endure to hear her speak it, so I ran away!"

"Yes, I can see that –"

"No, no – I mean yes, I have run here, but Hen's been visiting me this afternoon, I – had to settle some things… I had to talk to Will and tell my father then –"

"Tell your father?!" He was still goggling at her, at a total loss to understand. He heard her words – he simply didn't comprehend them.

"I've broken up with Will, I can't marry him and the poor guy – he's straining so much, and all for nothing, so I better… But did you say – you don't mean to marry Hen?"

"Certainly not! I have no – besides, she is engaged to Lieutenant Chandler, as far as I know –"

"Lieutenant Chandler! Oh good! I mean – well, it doesn't matter anyway, no, I see –"

"You've broken up with your fiancé?!" The first signs of life returned to James' face, in the form of a suppressed smile. "Becomes something like a bad habit with you, doesn't it?"

Now it was Elizabeth who was speechless; she gaped at the man in front of her, who slowly seemed to wake up from his trance. "So," he said with a much firmer voice, "what exactly did you want to tell me?"

"Oh! Didn't I – I already told you that I love you, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did." He was smiling now. "But I'm afraid I still don't understand you!"

"That was basically all – I don't have much more to say, you know – I simply wanted to tell you before you were married and I never had the chance again to…"

"To…?" He was downright grinning, and Elizabeth meant that she could take it no more. She turned on her heels and wanted to flee from this place, but now it was him who reached out for her wrist and held her back. She couldn't look at him, but he did not let go either, and she heard him say softly, "You must stop running away, dear. Please, look at me, Elizabeth!"

She shook her head, crying, "I can't – I'm so ashamed with myself – everything I've done – oh Lord!"

"Elizabeth, don't –" his voice was faltering, but he still held her tight. "You needn't… You've said – you loved me…?"

"I do," she whispered, feeling no more ground under her feet.

"And what would you say if I told you that I love you, too?"

Nothing. She would say nothing. Poor Commodore Norrington was almost accustomed to his sweetest Elizabeth fainting, so he had some experience in catching her, which came in very handy now. He held her in his arms and pressed her tightly; perhaps it would have been better to make her sit or lie down, but he couldn't let go of her, not now.

"Elizabeth – my beloved Elizabeth…" Fortunately, he had learnt to stand up to pretty much everything and keep standing, but with his heart bursting with joy, this was harder than any battle he had ever fought. Who could say how long he embraced her, in the middle of his room, before at last, she woke up again and whispered under her breath, "James…?"

"Right here to your services, Miss Swann –"

He kissed her hair, her forehead, she whirled her arms around his neck, and mustering all bravery he could possibly possess, he bowed down to kiss her lips –

"You're too good to be true, James," she sighed when their lips finally parted, and his eyes still closed, still feeling her kiss linger, he managed to smile.

"I hear that all the time."

The end of all this was that, after having begged her to sit down to avoid any possible accident, he asked her – on his knees – for the second time in their both lives, if she wanted to marry him, and when she said 'yes' this time, she couldn't have meant it with more affection, sincerity or confidence.

Maybe it was the routine, having proposed to the same girl already, but his composure was somehow better than the last time, he could even watch her straight in the eye. But then – the last time, she hadn't just left another man only because she meant that James would marry another woman, she hadn't told him that she loved him and he hadn't deceived himself that she would. It would take him some time to figure out what on earth had happened, to convince himself that he wasn't simply dreaming, and for a start, he contented himself to kiss her with a passion that he hadn't meant to possess himself – if this was a dream, it was an incredibly wonderful one!

Elizabeth on the other hand thought vaguely, somewhere in the back of her mind, which was otherwise too much consumed with other things, that, if James had ever tried to kiss her while she had been engaged to him for the first time, she might perhaps have spared him, and herself, a lot of misery.

She couldn't claim a reputation for herself to have the steadiest of opinion – although she was certainly quite head-strong in other respects – but she knew that she would never change her mind again. The regret that she had felt after abandoning James because of Will wasn't felt at all now that she had given her hand and heart for the third time in her life – being only nineteen, this was a remarkable number of engagements. Her felicity wasn't rooted in youthful fancy and a pretty face, but certain knowledge that she was to be the wife of the worthiest man in the world, even though she did fancy him a lot, and couldn't understand herself why she had taken so long to know her own heart. Commodore James Norrington not only possessed the power to make her happy, but to make her a much better person than she could ever be on her own, or with anybody else.

Bride and groom both wished to marry as soon as possible, but it would be wrong to presume that he was anxious that she could make up her mind once more, or that she simply had enough of long-time engagements. The certainty to be doing the only right thing, to have found just the one person in the world that their hearts belonged to, and most, the many suffers and pains they had both endured for the sake of the other – these were the foundations for their hurry to make up for everything. No objections had to be overcome; Governor Swann, though even more perplexed when his daughter returned this evening than when she had left, was indeed the most satisfied father in the world and had given his consent long before his rather slow wits could make him understand just anything. Reverend Martin, not quite as nonplussed as the Governor or anybody else involved, for a priest often knows more about his lambs' souls than they do themselves, gave his word to join their hands on the soonest day possible.

Elizabeth soon learnt how thoroughly unfounded her suspicions against Henrietta had been – he declared that he had never ceased to love her only the tiniest bit, and she had to laugh about her own narrow-mindedness. During all her ravings about her friend it had never come to her mind that it had been mostly her own jealousy blowing everything so monstrously out of proportion. Instead, she had perceived all the diminutive details which would have confirmed her dreads with the most anxious, twisted clarity – that he hadn't looked at her during the consultation after the Challenger's return, for example. She had taken this as a sure sign that he was at least angry with her, but more likely that he had lost every regard for her. In fact, he had simply lost his nerves with her own stares. Or the short glance in the church – yes, he had looked at Henrietta, but she hadn't looked at him! She had gazed at her future husband Robert Chandler who had sat next to him, and after it had taken the Commodore the greater part of an afternoon to urge his friend to finally make a go at the lady, he had looked over to signal her his delight with the course of events. Chandler had pressed his hand to thank him for his urgings, not to congratulate him. There were uncountable other small moments she had interpreted as clear hints, but he had the grace not to laugh out loudly about her for her silliness.

He had been oblivious to his own influence just as well. Although he had of course noticed how very much she had appeared altered, he had blamed nothing but her happiness about her engagement to young Mr. Turner for it. Actually, he had meant her attachment to this one so unconquerable that it had been absolutely impossible for him to see anything else in her behaviour.

"So, if you had merely heard that I had undone the engagement – would you have changed your opinion then?" she asked cheekily while they were taking a walk in her father's gardens, she was clinging tightly to his arm. He chuckled gently.

"No, I suppose I wouldn't have – I'd rather have meant that you loved me less than Mr. Turner anyway, and that one less than I had expected, ergo lowering my own hopes instead of increasing them!"

"Ah, that would have been dreadful! How can you be so shy?"

"My dearest soon-to-be Mrs. Norrington," he muttered fondly, turned to her and looked straight into her eyes, struggling to suppress a smile. "What you forget so charmingly is that I never received the smallest encouragement from your side until you've stormed into my office to tell me straightaway you loved me! How could I not be shy? I wouldn't even go so far and speak of shyness in the first place – that was common sense, more like!"

"So what you basically tell me is that your common sense would have kept you from wooing the woman you claim to love? I think my way of putting it lets you appear more sensible!"

"Well, name it differently then – name it sense of self-preservation! I was still trying to swallow your first refusal, because I do not only claim to love you – I literally suffer from it!"

She blushed severely, but he blinked at her and kissed her fingertips. "And as long as I see no ring of mine on this hand, I will not yet stop to be prepared for being refused once more!"

She blushed even worse and lowered her head, murmuring, "Please, James, you mustn't make fun of this – I'll never be able to forgive myself for it!"

"Oh, but I wasn't joking, my dear!"

Oh well, he was joking – his voice gave him away. One of the most amazing discoveries she had made since this memorable evening on Christmas day was to see that, once he had warmed up to her, he had developed a good sense of humour. She had loved him without it, but she was even more enchanted with this most unexpected quality, even though it meant that he kept teasing her to no end.

He let go of her hand and tenderly lifted her chin to make her look at him again, whispering before he closed in for a kiss, "Though there is one thing that I'm deadly serious about – I love you!"

The Governor spotted the enchanting couple from one of the upper windows, absent-mindedly talking to his late wife's portrait on the wall, "You couldn't be any prouder with her, Mary! Though I must say that customs have changed in the last twenty years – did I ever kiss you in your father's garden in broad daylight? Oh yes, you're right, of course! Now I remember – forget everything I've said, my love!"

The first person that Elizabeth had visited after that eventful evening was her old friend Henrietta Van Dyke, to plead for that one's forgiveness for everything that had happened between them, and furthermore to pass on the joyful news. Miss Van Dyke had no disposition to feel any grudge; she loved Elizabeth too well despite all her follies, and congratulated her with the same heartfelt enthusiasm that Elizabeth had in store for her own engagement to the good Lieutenant Chandler – although she couldn't refrain from one or two jibes concerning Miss Van Dyke's often stated belief that she would never fall in love in such fashion. Miss Van Dyke revenged herself by reminding her friend of her very public claim to not marry Commodore Norrington.

Even the Lieutenant was utmost pleased – in the past, he had often criticised Miss Swann, but Henrietta's fervent defence of her friend, the Commodore's never-faltering praise and his own means of observation let him belief that she would make his friend just as happy as he deserved and could after all grow up to be a very good woman.

There was only one soul in Port Royal that couldn't share any such happy feeling, which of course was Will Turner. His love for the lady had been as honest and deep as he could ever have felt; he was too passionate and too young to own the Commodore's empathy to only care for his beloved's happiness, but at least the same youth made it likely that he would in time get over such loss. He didn't have to endure becoming witness of the solemn ceremony, as he left the town only four days later on board of the Black Pearl, but to make it short – he was to find true love some years later in the person of a sailor's daughter, who let him forget about the woes of a broken heart, and until that, he was rather busy to handle his captain's drunken brilliance that bordered sheer madness so often.