Engagement Day

William POV

"George, get up. Hurry, it's time!" He had said that he would take a quick rest before we started the attack, but now it was time and he was still asleep. Lousy partner, no. Lazy, yes.
" What is it? What's goin' on?" he asked as he sat up. Outside, the fog that the Black Pearl brought with it bought us some time and cover, but not enough to waste. We all had to hurry.
" We're starting the attack. Come on, you and I have to get to the governor's mansion."
" Calm down boy, I'll be right there! Go! You go on without me, I'll catch up." He said as he all but pushed me away. He stretched, yawning.
" Are you scared because it's the most dangerous spot we'll be looting?" I joked. He made no reply. "George, we have to go." I said sternly.
" Oh! Now the boy's gettin' angry! When have I ever let you down Will?" I sighed. Never.
" Fine, but don't take too long, we have to work fast." I said as I ran up the stairs to catch up with the others.

Elizabeth POV

I was sitting by myself on a stone bench in the garden, turning a rose over with my fingers. James had picked it from the garden before going to meet with my father. The sun was about to set just over the horizon, casting its light on the rose before it gave way to the darkness. Good, I thought, now James would be here in a few minutes to escort me inside and greet our guests, and to also be introduced to them as an engaged couple for the first time. Until then, he was to greet the guests that arrived along with my father, and I had chosen to wait here, rather than inside.

It was quite odd that my father had let James propose, as far as I had been aware, he thought I was too young to marry. But of course, when it came to marrying a noble, young, rich Commodore from a good English family, it hadn't mattered much because it was quite a smart match.

I was glad of that, and excited too. I couldn't wait to be James's wife, to be called Mrs. Norrington and be seen on his arm by al the people while all the ladies remarked at what a wonderful couple we were. They would talk about how lucky I was to marry a man that was so dear to my heart- that this would be one of those rare marriages that had love. I sighed and looked down at my finger to admire the ring. It was beautiful, a gold band with a large diamond at center, surrounded by slightly smaller, alternating rubies and sapphires all around the center diamond. It looked like a glittering, exquisite kind of flower. My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a gust of cold wind, awfully strange given the time of year. An eerie fog that I hadn't noticed before, began to settle around the garden. How very, very odd. I got up and walked inside, taking the rose with me.

I went to wait in the large sitting room on the other side of the mansion, which was not close at all, but I felt good, as it put a good distance between myself and that infernal fog. I crossed the room and I laid back on a large, splendid setee whose back faced the door. Where was James? Probably being overly occupied by the guests with questions and congratulations alike.

I heard footsteps outside the room and then heard the door open unusually slowly,. I peered around and was about to say "James", but I cut myself off and didn't say his name- because it wasn't him. Even though his back was to me, as he was closing the door, I could tell he wasn't a servant either, or any man I had ever seen, to be quite honest. I quickly slid down and onto the floor where I kneeled. From underneath the settee I could see the man's dark, old boots turn around to face the room after closing the door. He walked forward and I would hidden by the furniture no longer, so slowly inched my way to the side of it, between the wall and the settee, where it was darker and harder to spot me. I could probability crawl backwards toward the door fairly quietly from this spot, I hoped, if help didn't come soon.

The man wore a maroon shirt, a black coat and dark brown breeches and boots. He was tan from the sun and seemed kind of dirty. A pirate? What was I going to do if he was? I noticed that he also had a sword held by holster to his side, and a pistol in his hand. I'd heard of those ruthless pirates. The hideous, revolting, dreadful, menacing criminals. I'd heard all those words uttered about his kind from many people; the servants, and the soldiers at the fort, from James and my father.

He walked from the middle of the room to the wall opposite mine and set the gun down on a long table filled with various expensive gold ornaments that was against it. He studied the ornaments and stuffed the smaller of them in a sack that hung at his waist. It angered me. He then walked past the table and started looking at the adjacent wall and its various paintings. What would he know about art, I scoffed mentally. He probably thought they were merely pretty pictures. But they were works of art. Skilled men had meticulously created masterpieces with careful, controlled strokes, and many long hours. His filthy, sinful hands would mar their purity.

He was a foolish man, that much was certain. Leaving a pistol on a table was going to work in my advantage. In all seriousness, however, I needed to get out of the room fast while I still could- before I got caught by the man as he made his way around. He probably would take me prisoner and- I shuddered at the thought. But no, I needed to be brave. How could I run away knowing he might escape while I went for help? He deeds would go unpunished, and it was might duty as the Governor's daughter to see that crimes be punished- I was loyal to justice, I couldn't turn my back and cower. The smart thing would be to escape, my life matters more, I kept thinking, but he was disrespecting my home and everything my father had worked so hard for. I was going to take the pistol and…

He still had a sword but who woulddare attack? Certainly not with the pistol in my hands, that would be a mistake for which a life might be surrendered.

While he was still scrutinizing the paintings and with his back to me, I gathered up
some courage, breathed, and slowly crawled around the back of the settee and towards the table. When I finally reached it, I quickly picked up the pistol with relief. I stood up ever so quietly and walked towards him, when I started hearing booming noises from outside. My heart pounded even more in my chest, but I was giddy at the thought that he hadn't caught me.

"Don't touch that." I ordered him as I put the gun to the back of his head. " I said don't touch that!" I ordered him again with more ferocity, masking my fear, but he didn't obey, and his fingertips still rested on my portrait.
I waited for what was to come...