"I am going to miss you." Lizzie says, taking a seat on my bed. The afternoon sun shines in through the open window, the slight breeze just strong enough to rustle the few papers sitting on the vanity. Father had the maids start my packing but I took over, feeling strange to have others serve me in such a trivial way.

I look down at my open luggage, before taking out a thin, flowered skirt.

"No, you won't." I reply lightheartedly, replacing the thin skirt for a thick wool skirt into my baggage, "You have your wedding to plan. You will be kept so busy that you won't have time to miss me."

"You know that you're wrong." Lizzie says, "We haven't been apart since I was kidnapped and before that, we were always together."

"So you're saying that your kidnapping was a practice for now?"

"Well, maybe a bit. But it was different that time. Neither of us made the choice to leave."

"How many times do I have to tell you." I sigh, "I am not leaving you. I am just going to start a real life. And so are you with Will."

"But we might not see each other for a long time."

"I'll be back for your wedding, I promise. And I will be trading here at Port Royal sometimes."

"Yes, but it isn't like I'll be able to talk to you about any troubles I have."

"You will have Will for that." I point out.

"It isn't the same."

I turn to her and sit beside her, for the moment forgetting about packing.

"I am going to miss you as well. But to be perfectly honest, I won't have too much time to think of it. Being an apprentice to a merchant isn't exactly a job that gives you much time to think of anything but navigation, prices, demand, and supply."

Elizabeth wraps her arms around me, "My little sister is all grown up."

I pull her off of me. "I am only an inch shorter than you."

"Even if you grow to be a giant, you'll always be my little sister." She replies, patting my head demeaningly.

"And that is one of the reason why I am leaving."

Elizabeth looks confused.

"Here, I am just Elizabeth Swann's younger, rambunctious sister. I am not really my own person. I am your friend, a mischief maker, and Father's thorn in the side."

"You are not a thorn to Father."

"Why do you think that he is letting me leave?" I ask her, "It surely isn't to let myself be my own person and it isn't because he believes that the knowledge I will gain will be in any way helpful."

"Father is letting you go because he realizes that you are not his little girl anymore and that he can't control you. He might not approve, but he recognizes your wants and needs, and letting you go into the world while still obeying the law, is the best compromise for you both."

"Compromise. Why don't I believe you?" I scoff.

"Because you're stubborn and cynical?"

"No... because I don't bother with the cute and loving dream world. I see life as its true gritty self that needs to be treated as an enemy until proven friend."

Elizabeth pulls back, scrutinizing me through slitted eyes. "You have changed a lot." She says, her eyebrows pulled together and her lips dipping down into a slight frown. "You have grown up. You aren't the happy-go-lucky girl I used to know that would do strange things just for the sake of doing them."

"You're right. I have gone from strange straight to crazy." I say with a grin.

Lizzie chuckles, "Maybe you haven't changed that much."

"Except for the physical." I say, referring to the scars which I now show openly, wearing them proudly as a badge of honor of the difficulties and hardships I had endured.

"You really are fine with the scars now, aren't you?"

"Actually, I quite like them. They keep the shallow away and is a public display of my character. I haven't been bothered by any vain young men or women since coming home."

A knock on the door has us jumping in surprise, Lizzie almost falling of the bed.

I snort in laughter and hurry to open the door, revealing Tula.

"Miss, there is a young man at the door asking for you." She says.

"Did he reveal his name?

"Yes Miss. He introduced himself as a Thomas Barrington."

I stumble back, Lizzie jumping to her feet and rushing towards me to steady me.

"Are you all right, miss?" Tula asks, concern in her eyes.

"I am fine." I gasp.

"Please show Mr. Barrington to the parlor." Elizabeth says, thankfully taking charge. "And ask him to wait patiently."

Tula hesitantly leaves, shutting the door behind her.

"He is here." I say mostly to myself, finding it hard to breathe. My head starts pounding and I can't decipher all the messages both my mind and heart are sending me.

Lizzie gently leads me to a bed and sits me down, before kneeling at my feet.

"He is here." I repeat, my mind only concentrated on those three words.

"Yes." Elizabeth says, almost as shocked as I am.

"I know why he is here." I say to myself.

"Why?"

"Why else would a man come and visit a girl that he loves him and that loves him?"

Realization hits Lizzie's face and she can only shake her head in disbelief, "Will you go see him?"

"You go." I say.

Elizabeth is taken aback, "I think you are the mad one between the two of us. I barely know this man! I have never even spoken a single word to him. What would I say to him? No. You must go. You mustn't keep him waiting."

"I can't do it, Lizzie." I say, my eyes wide with fear, "I can't look at him. After everything I've done? I can't walk down those stairs knowing full-well that I am about to cause him great pain!"

"Yes, you can." Elizabeth says forcefully, getting to her feet, "You have run away from home to save your sister. You have sailed with a crew of pirates. You have witnessed a close friend die. You have survived being marooned on an island even though you don't remember most of it. And you have been in a battle with cursed pirates. You can do anything."

Her words encouraging me, I get to my feet as well determined, before nervousness seizes me. "Will you come with me?"

"No." She replies but quickly continues when she sees the fright and disappointment on my face, "This is something you must do on your own. If worst should come, call, and I will come."

I nod, uncertainly, and slowly walk out of the room, not looking back once.

What would he say?

What would I say?

What could I possibly do to prevent any and all pain?

I make my way to the top of the stairs, before slowly and carefully stepping down, knowing full-well that every sound made on the stairs could be heard almost anywhere in the house.

I cringe every time my foot hits a wooden step, knowing that Thomas can hear me coming. He knows I am going to talk to him. For some reason, it makes me feel more insecure and less in control.

Finally making it to the bottom of the steps, I turn to the left, past the front door and down a short hallway before facing the large, wooden double doors to my left.

I carefully place my ear on the door and I can hear someone pacing back and forth in the room beyond.

It suddenly stops and I push my ear harder against the door and quiet by breathing, wondering if I was just not listening hard enough.

The door swings wide open and I tumble into the room with a yelp and landing in a heap on the floor.

I jump to my feet, painfully aware that my hair is a mess and my shirt sleeve now has a large rip in it.

I turn and face the door opener, Thomas, who looks just as shocked as I, his jaw open and his eyes wide. His eyes trail the white scar running down my face.

"Hello, Thomas." I say, whipping my hair out of my face, trying to look more in control than I actually am.

"Hello, Anna." He replies, just as awkwardly as I. "What happened to you?" He asks, worry filling every syllable of his question.

"Nothing," I say, "Just a little confrontation with a slice of wood. It apparently thought my face needed some visual interest."

Thomas' lips curve into a small smile.

"What would you like to speak to me about?" I say, surprised at how calm and normal my voice sounds considering the circumstances.

Thomas seems to need a few moments to gather his thought and I take this time to take his appearance in. He has actually changed quite a bit since I last saw him. His hair has been cut clean and short and he has been obviously been kept clean for a while. His face clean shaven and he is also wearing newer clothing, looking quite like the middle class gentleman.

"Anna." He finally says, but doesn't continue, as if words escaping his mind as they travelled down to his mouth.

The realization that I am facing him after all this time, hits me like a wall and I don't respond, my heart beat starting to racing and my mind trying to pick out the right words to say.

"I missed you." He continues. "You have no idea how much."

I ignore this outspokenness off amiability.

"How did you find me?" I ask cooly.

Sadness crosses his face at the small slap to his face. "I heard the news that you were going to travel as a merchant's apprentice and I needed to talk to you before you left and there would be no easy way of contacting you." He says, stiffly, before letting silence descend momentarily into the room.

"I see you've been doing well." I say, doing my best not to enter the awkward silence, blame and guilt weighing heavily in the air.

"Yes, I have." He replies monotonously, obviously trying not to let any emotion show just yet. "After you left me on the island, I found work with an old inn keeper. He made me the manager of the inn as he was too old to continue his work." He says, stiffly.

"That is good." I reply, glancing around the room, anywhere but at him. Suddenly feeling a little overwhelmed, I grab a chair and take a seat before motioning Thomas to do the same.

He quickly closes the door and sits down as well.

"It is good to hear that you have been doing well." I say, "Now, I don't feel so bad about leaving you at the town."

Thomas, doesn't reply but, resting his elbows on his knees, lowers his head into his hands, rocking back and forth as if battling with something on the inside.

After a minute or so, I can't take it anymore, "Thomas? Are you all right?" I ask, trying to keep the emotion out of my voice.

He looks up sharply and takes a deep breathe, "I still love you."

I blink. Even though I had been expecting something of the sort, I am still taken aback by the randomness of the phrase.

"I am set to inherit the old inn since the old man is childless and I have a small home across the street from the inn."

I nod, impatiently waiting for him to get to his point.

"Well, what I am saying, I guess, is will you marry me?"

My eyes widen and I lean as far back into my chair as I dare.

I had expected a declaration of love, a forgiveness of sins, and the admittance that I was still wanted. A marriage proposal, was completely unthought of.

"I can't" I state, but almost wish that I hadn't said the words. Thomas's face, crumbles into a confused, chaotic, painfulness that is making my heart break.

"I see." He says uncomfortably, straightening out in his chair and looking to want to be anywhere but in my home, sitting across from me, and having this conversation.

Seeing his heart ripping on his sleeve, I try to justify my words, "Thomas, it isn't that I don't want to. I do. But not at this moment."

"Why? What is wrong about now?" He says, the pain leaking into his voice, "I thought that now would be best, before you left and got caught up into a new life, too busy to even consider returning to me."

I laugh halfheartedly, "This is the worst time you could have probably picked!"

Thomas looks bewildered and I continue, "I am about to start a new adventure in life, this one voluntary. I have been planning and looking forwards to this for months, ever since I came back home. I know that I am of age to be married but I can't. I can't promise myself to a life of caring for others while I still long for something else. I have to see to my dreams fulfilled before I can fully commit to others'."

Thomas slowly gets to his feet, as if regretting the action every moment he does it.

"It isn't that I don't love you." I say, "I do. I am just not ready yet to settle down. I want to be with you, but just not yet. I need to live the life I have always dreamed of, before it gets out of reach.

"I am trying to understand, Anna. I really am." Thomas says, his voice soft and laced with misery.

"I'm sorry." I say. "So very, very, sorry."

Thomas turns to leave but before he makes it out of the room he has a thought and turns back, "I love you too, Anna. And I will wait as long as I can. But I can't promise forever."

I nod in understanding, "I am sorry for hurting you, Thomas." I say, tears flowing freely and soundlessly from my downcast eyes, "I don't mean to. I don't want to."

"Don't apologize for your feelings." Thomas scolds lightly before his voice fills up with agony . "My only wish is that we had stayed together during those days all those months ago. Then this conversation would never have taken place."

A sob escapes my lips and Thomas looks regretful of having been the cause of the tears. However, he doesn't move from his location at the door, but just watches as I unsuccessfully try to control my weeping.

"Goodbye, Anna." He says, once I've quieted down, "I hope to see you again someday. Maybe as future man and wife." With that, he turns and departs, leaving me in the empty room, my thought and my sobs as my only companions.

The early morning wind cuts sharply into my face and the seeps through my clothes, prickling my sin despite the thick wool cape I wear draped upon my shoulders. Elizabeth had voiced her confusion as to why I would be bringing a London winter cape with me when the days where unbearably hot.

"For early morning escapades." I had told her, " I don't want to freeze before the day even starts.

"There you are, miss." The servant says, placing my final trunk onto the dock, before hopping onto the back of the carriage. The place is buzzing with activity, even at this time in the morning. sailors and workers mill about, loading the Flightless with provisions and supplies to trade.

"Thank you." I tell him before being distracted by Father and Elizabeth who had just completed their little tour of the ship that will be my home for the foreseeable future.

"It is a quaint little ship." Father states, offering his seal of approval, "Well made, with a lot of storage space yet not extravagant in the slightest; very practical."

"Yes." Elizabeth agrees, "I do believe you'll be quite happy on it as long as you don't get sea-sick and start getting home-sick for land."

"I doubt sickness will be something I'll get too acquainted with." I reply.

"Is that all you're bringing?" Father asks, looking at my small pile of three trunks.

"Yes." I say, "I won't be going to any sort of social gathering unless you count the rowdy dances on deck, and the gambling and drinking."

Father gapes at me and I grin, "Don't worry, Father. You know me better than that."

"That is just the thing, I don't."

I give him a quick hug and kiss him on the cheek, "I'll be fine. After all I've gone through, this will be a walk in the park."

"Well, I'll miss you," He says, returning the hug before returning into the warmth of the carriage.

"I'll miss you as well." Elizabeth says, taking my hands. "Are you sure you are making the right choice, with Thomas and all?"

"The right choice for whom?" I say. "I am doing the right thing for me. I have to do this before I get stuck in the married life."

"I for one, cannot wait to be 'stuck'."

I wrap my arms around her neck, pulling her into an embrace, "You will make a wonderful wife and mother." I say, "I can't wait for your wedding day."

"I am already impatient to have you home." She says.

"It is only a few months until your wedding day." I say, "You'll see me then."

She nods and I notice tears building up in her eyes. She quickly brushes them away before giving another quick hug and returning to the carriage which quickly departs back up the hill into town.

I turn to face the Flightless, my new home. I watch as a single sailor walks up to me and gives me a short bow, "Hello, miss. My name is Benjamin. I am the first mate of the Flightless."

"Hello, Benjamin." I say with a smile at the man, "I am Annalee Swann, but please, call me Anna."

Benjamin grins, "Let me help you with your luggage." He grabs the two larger ones and I take the smallest.

He leads the way up the plank and onto the bustling ship, where men dart to and fro, organizing equipment and storing away necessities into the store rooms.

Making sure that I am still following him, he disappears down into the hull and I quickly follow, narrowly missing a bundle of rope being thrown across the deck.

I follow Benjamin carefully, the sun not yet penetrating the ship as deep as we are. He finally stops in front of a door and opens it.

He walks into a small, clean, well-organized room and places the luggages carefully on the bed, "Since we are a small ship with a small crew, we have no need for a Second Mate. So this will be your quarters. It is closer to the crew's chamber than the captain or I would like but we've given specific orders that none disturb you and have outfitted the door with a lock that can only be opened by one of three keys."

He hands me a chain with a single iron key hanging from the end, "You have one and both the captain and I have one in case of emergencies."

I take it and quickly slip it on.

"We will be pulling out of dock in a couple hours, right after we feed the crew. The captain requested that you have the meal with him in an hour and then we are to discuss the course of the ship for the next week. Until then, you are free to roam around and disturb the crew as much as you would like." He says, cracking a smile.

I thank him, returning the grin and he backs out into the hallway shutting the door behind him.

I quickly unpack, placing all my clothing into the small wooden dresser in the corner of the room before shoving the empty luggages under the cot.

I don't waste any time and quickly retrace my steps until I reach the main deck where workers are still scurrying about.

I keep climbing until I reach the upper deck, where the wheel is situated. I stand behind it and look up over the ship. Although small, it is well made and organized. The crew seem kind and clean enough and the Captain and the First Mate have proven to be kind, considerate men. Although maybe not as adventurous as my last journey, this one might turn out to be more exciting.

I grab the wheel and spinning it gently back and forth, I look out into the never-ending sea.

Jack was right. A ships is freedom. It isn't the crew that mans it. It isn't the sails that drive it. It isn't the wheel that directs it. And it sure isn't the wood that supports it. A ship is completely, absolutely, and utterly... freedom.

Although I do not wish it, this is where the story ends for now. This is where you must leave me and this is where I must leave you. I wish it could go on forever but it can't be so. It is, after all, my story and I still have yet to live it.