Disclaimer: Once upon a time, there was a land brimming with brilliant people. This land was called Disney, and people adored even the ears on the mice who lived therein. These people made the world a better place through their tales of pirates and good men, of blacksmiths and forbidden loves, of heroic adventures, of skeleton pirates, of the Land of the Dead. Nearby there lived a mere peasant named inkyfingers999 who dwelt within the humble village of Fanfiction and loved these stories very much. She wrote her own tales of the heroes and villains created by Disney, and wished with all her heart that they might one day be hers. Tragically, they refused to grant her wish, and, heartbroken though she was, she continued to write stories in hopes that she might one day own the Pirates of the Caribbean. The end. (Moral of this story: I don't own Pirates)

Later

Dear Diary,

As I write this, I am sitting on the lower bunk in the cabin Kristie and I share. She is on her own bunk above me, sulking. She was more than a bit miffed to be left out of the action. To be quite honest, I was rather upset as well. I have yet to see a storm from the deck, for Mother always insists I stay below where it is safer. We would not be nearly as glum had Robert not been allowed on deck. What makes him any different than us? He may be a boy, but he is still merely a child of ten. Why should we be considered more fragile simply because we are girls? My own mother is a Pirate King! Surely a woman can be just as tough as a man.

However, I must admit that, at least from here, it does not sound like I would want to be out in this weather. Every minute or so a deafening roll of thunder rumbles into our room. Poor Jonathan is so very frightened. Even now he is curled up on Kristie's pillow, shivering. His eyes are red from crying. It truly is a sad sight. Meanwhile, Kristie is sprawled out on the floor, poring over her map. She has a rather unusual hobby- she enjoys planning out voyages she intends to embark on someday. It is her dream to become captain of her own ship, and I believe she would be a wonderful leader, albeit a bit reckless. Then again, if she were not so impulsive, she would not be the Kristianna we all know and love.

The ship is rocking quite a bit, and my ink threatens to spill over the paper. I shall write more soon.

Always,

Sarah Turner

Meanwhile on deck, the crew struggled to keep the Pearl afloat. Rain poured down in blinding torrents, making it difficult to see more than a few feet in front of oneself. To even approach being able to steer took all the strength Will and Jack could muster. A distinct ripping sound was heard from far above their heads, and Jack cursed under his breath. "Oy! William, ye were s'posed ta fix tha' sail!" he yelled over the crashing of the waves.

"I did! Otherwise, how'd it have ripped?"

"Well, then ye didn't do it right!"

"And what would you suggest I do about it?"

"Go an' fix it again!"

Will stared at him incredulously. Did this man honestly want him to climb the rigging armed with needle and thread to stitch up the sail in this horrid weather?

"No! Not in this storm," he declared.

"If ye don't, we'll lose the sail," the captain shot back.

"If one o' ye won't go, I will!" Anamaria, who had been securely fastening supplies to the ship, cut in.

The two men looked at her, then back to each other, and without a word, the decision was made.

Elizabeth was jolted out of her sleep by a peal of thunder. She knew naught what time it was, nor how long the storm had been raging. Frantically, she leaped from between the covers, snatching up her deck clothes and hurriedly throwing them on. Obviously Will had left her to sleep in hopes that she would not awaken in time to help out. However, she knew the Pearl had a relatively small crew; surely she would be needed on deck. While running down the corridor, she was relieved to see a gentle light emanating from beneath Sarah's cabin door. At least the girls weren't out in the rain.

When she opened the hatch, she was greeted by a blast of icy rain, soaking her clothes and shocking her senses. Setting her jaw, she climbed up onto the deck, securely closing the door behind her. She looked all around, surveying the scene. Robert was busily fastening a barrel to the ship. Anamaria and Will fought to steer the vessel through the towering waves. Jack clung to the rigging high above her, repairing a torn sail. The rest of the crew were hard at work, and she felt terrible that she had not come to assist them sooner. Now, where was she needed? She scanned the deck in search of a job to do. Her gaze came to rest on a tie that had come loose. Determinedly she made her way over to the offending rope, retying it tightly. When the task was completed, she looked around for another. Her eyes wandered from Robert, who was now helping Mr. Gibbs nearby, to Will and Ana at the wheel, to Jack, still tangled in the ropes and fumbling with the uncooperative black fabric.

Seeing what a struggle steering was, Elizabeth headed over towards the wheel, fighting to remain upright in the howling wind. Her sleep-addled mind failed to process much more than "Bad storm. Must help. Slept too long. Lazy self. Bad storm. Must help. Slept too long. Lazy self," and so on. When, after what seemed like hours, she arrived at the wheel, her hands automatically grasped it, holding on for dear life.

"Pull her starboard!" Will hollered through the chaotic noise, glancing over at his two helpers. It took him a moment to realize that something was wrong. "Two helpers?" he thought, confused. Pausing briefly to look past Anamaria, he was amazed to find his wife there, assisting them in their near-futile attempt to maintain some semblance of control over the ship. "Elizabeth?" he called out, confused.

Knowing he had believed her to be fast asleep, but still slightly upset that he treated her with such caution, she replied nonchalantly, "Why didn't you wake me?" His jaw dropped. Surely she didn't believe he expected her to weather such a ferocious storm while two months pregnant! He opened his mouth to protest, but his words were drowned out by yet another deafening crack of thunder. When he felt his words would be relatively audible once more, he turned back to Elizabeth. "You really needn't be out here," he began hesitantly, knowing she prided herself on being nearly strong and capable as he.

Just as he'd predicted, she shot him a warning look, preparing to scold him again on how just because she was pregnant, didn't mean she was helpless. If she was honest with herself, she rather enjoyed the special treatment she'd been receiving, and on occasion truly needed to refrain from heavy work as he and Ana had suggested. However, she was not about to admit that to them.

Suddenly, the intensity of the downpour dropped to not even half as bad as it had been moments before. Surprised, but nonetheless relieved, the crew turned to stare upwards, almost as one unit. The stinging, icy wind and the freezing cold rain had dwindled to near nothing. Within a few short minutes, the sun had begun to peek around the dark clouds as they moved ever so slowly away.

Clambering down from his perch on the ropes above, Jack ambled clumsily over to where the trio stood. "Well, tha's that," he drawled. "Quite the view from the riggin', ye know," he continued, looking pointedly at Will. "Now, where's me hat? An' me rum?" the eccentric captain's voice trailed off as he made his way across the deck away from them. Ana rolled her eyes and shook her head, with just a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

Turning back to Elizabeth, Will brushed away a strand of hair that clung to her face. "What drove you to come on deck? I thought you were sleeping," he said gently.

"I was," she admitted, and he sensed a twinge of guilt in the way she spoke, her gaze shifting to the floor to her left. He regarded her with confusion.

"And why would that be a bad thing?"

"You needed help on deck," she answered, as though this were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Perhaps," he conceded reluctantly. However, he was quick to add, "But not so badly that you needed to come out into such weather when you're sick."

Shaking her head at him affectionately, she reached up to touch his cheek. "I appreciate that," she said. "But I'm not sick right now. On the contrary, I'm feeling quite good."

"I'm glad to hear it," he replied, grinning. Elizabeth had always had a contagious love for life, and had never been one to allow illness to get her down. She had been that way since their days of playing together on the beach as children, and today was no different. In fact, she seemed almost to glow with energy. Who was he to hold her back?

Sensing his thoughts, Elizabeth beamed up at him. Will just stared back at her, oblivious to anything else. Even in her wrinkled deckhand clothes, with tangles of blond hair matted to her face, she was breathtakingly beautiful. "Yes?" her voice startled him out of his reverie. Her light brown eyes danced with amusement. Still smiling, she reached up and took his face in her hands, bringing his face to hers for a kiss. Will contentedly wrapped his arms around her, all else forgotten.

"Do you mind?" The pair jumped, breaking apart and turning to find an exasperated Jack motioning for them to let him by. "Unless, that is, ye intend to steer the ship, and it seems it'd be a mite difficult in tha' position." Most days, Elizabeth would have made a witty comeback, but currently she was afraid that if she opened her mouth to speak, she would burst into a fit of laughter. So instead, she bit her lip to hold back a giggle, pulling Will away and allowing Jack to take over at the wheel. As they made their leave, he was heard murmuring to himself about really bad eggs, causing the pair to smile at the older pirate's antics.

Tuesday, the 24th of September

Dear Diary,

The weather this morning is lovely, and the only evidence of yesterday's storm is the dampness in the wood of the deck. It seems almost like a dream, for the storm was so very terrible- there were times when I thought the ship might be torn to shreds! I do not know how long the ordeal lasted, but I am certain it was several hours. Shortly after I stopped writing, Mr. Gibbs came to tell us we must blow out the candle. After grumbling a bit about not being allowed to study her map, Kristie somehow fell asleep. I suppose I must have dozed off once or twice, but whatever sleep I managed to get was fitful to say the least. But none of that matters now. The storm has passed, and all is well once more.

Even the conflict between Mum and Uncle Jack has been resolved. The missing bottle of rum was discovered beneath Uncle Jack's beloved hat, and he (somewhat reluctantly) apologized to Mum for his suspicions. However, while helping prepare the Pearl for the storm, I did notice that she considerably loosened the knots on the barrel of the drink in the corner of the deck when she thought no one was watching. I wonder if it was washed away in the rain.

I personally find the thought of consuming something harmful to one's health to be foolish. This is yet another topic on which Kristie and I disagree, as she thinks it is an exciting idea. She claims to have tasted it once before, but I am not sure I believe her. Mum has often told me not to trust everything she says, and I admit I can see why. She also says she has met Blackbeard before!

The only bad news I've heard is that some vital supplies were ruined, and we will need to stop in Tortuga and purchase more. I shudder at the thought. I have heard many stories about the crime and immorality there. Yet, somehow, the idea of seeing this place excites me. If I am truly honest with myself, I am curious to know what it is like. Heavens, what my parents might say if they knew what thoughts enter my mind sometimes. Curiosity can be wonderful, but it can also be dangerous, my mother often says.

I will write more soon.

Always,

Sarah Turner

She tucked the diary under her arm, being careful not to drop it as she clambered out of the crow's nest and began inching her way down the rigging. When she reached the relatively stable deck, she found Kristie waiting for her.

"Did ye hear the news?" she asked, excitement evident in her dark eyes.

"About stopping in Tortuga?"

Kristie nodded happily. "You seem excited," the older girl remarked, beginning to walk towards the hatch.

"Of course I'm excited!" her friend exclaimed. "What's not to be excited 'bout? The place's got adventure written all o'er it!"

"Adventure, yes," Sarah admitted, then sighed. "But also danger."

"Tha's the fun part!" Sarah smiled softly to herself, opening the hatch. Although she did not necessarily agree with her friend's idea of fun, Kristie's exuberance was contagious. She followed Sarah down the cramped corridor towards their cabin, chattering on about their destination. "Imagine- seein' dangerous crimes from just a few feet away, tanglin' with unsavory characters..."

While her friend rambled on, Sarah could only hope that Kristie's curiosity would not get them into too much trouble in Tortuga.

A/N: You like? :) I wasn't sure I liked this chapter, so I really need to know what you think. You know what to do, me'hearties. See that handy-dandy lil' button that says "Review this Chapter"? Yeah, that. Click it. :)

Thanks again to my beta Williz and all my awesome readers/reviewers! You guys rock my socks! Wait... I'm not wearing socks. You guys rock my feet!... (crickets chirp) uh, nevermind.