Playlist: 'Forever Lost (Reprise)' by God Is An Astronaut.

19

They sat side by side in the longboat, solemn and silent, looking away from one another, sharing only the same dark glare.
Elizabeth trailed a finger in the waves.
If only mermaids existed, she would have wished for them to take her now, as one of their own, down to the bottomless cool waters amongst shipwrecks and endless reefs. Anything but the future ahead of her, and anything except piracy.

Her father wouldn't be able to complain about her becoming a fish.

It was only when Jack handed her, unexpectedly, to the rope ladder descending the side of the Dauntless that she chanced to look him in the face, almost accidentally.

The brief moment of contact created a sharp twinge in his stomach, and her expression reflected a mutual feeling.

He knew she had an awful lot to say that she hadn't said. And that it would probably stay that way.

Because for her, there was no turning away from her predestined path of petticoats and parasols.
And for her, words weren't going to do anything.

Jack caught sight of the Governor rushing to greet his Prodigal daughter as she reached the deck.

It was all a flurry of grey curls and turquoise fabric, and she was nearly hidden from sight by his fierce embrace.
He kept saying her proper name, over and over. Elizabeth, Elizabeth.
It didn't ring right. But at least she was safe. And happy.

Not that that was going to last her much longer.

"Home." Weatherby Swann said simply to the Commadore, who tipped his head in agreement and began to shout orders in his well-groomed voice.

"Home? But we've got to save Will." Lizzie protested with feeling. Her father interrupted her immediately with a resounding "No."

She looked at him, crestfallen and guilty.
"You're safe now." he reasoned, "We will return to Port Royal immediately, not go gallivanting after pirates!"

"Then we condemn him to death." she accused.
"The boy's fate is regrettable, but then so was his decision to engage in piracy."

"If I may be so bold," Jack interrupted, not really knowing why he was about to speak up on the whelp's behalf. Hadn't the blaggard left him at the Isle de Muerte to die? - "I did give him a bit of persuasion in the matter - not the best kind, you understand."

His heart sank as he realised that he was saying this to impress her, and that admitting to kidnapping William was doing, in fact, the exact opposite.

"Ah, yes, Mr. Sparrow. One more crime to add to the lengthy list. Clap him in irons, gentlemen." Norrington piped up, gesturing to the crew smugly.

"Ye may not want to be doing that, mate." Jack took a couple of steps backwards in a futile attempt to distance himself from the impending brig, "The Pearl was listing near to scuppers after the battle. It's very unlikely she'll be able to make good time. Think about it. The Black Pearl, the last real pirate threat in the Caribbean." he gestured from a safe way away, "How can you pass that up?"

"By remembering that I serve others, Mr. Sparrow, not only myself." came the cold reply.
Bloody navy toffs. Couldn't sway 'em any way you swung it.

Shouldn't have shown off his (now pitiful-looking) skills in bribery so freely. He was building up a worse and worse image for himself.
It would be the gallows for sure.

The Commodore looked on as Jack was put deftly into manacles and secured by each arm, by two strapping young soldiers who looked like they meant business.

He then turned away, to ascend the steps and rid himself of this 'pirate scum', as Jack could vividly imagine he would term it.

Lizzie shook free of her father and flew to the foot, clutching the railing.

There was no way her father or James would agree.
Will's death would hang over them all, for the rest of their lives. And only she would care.

What harsh men chivalry and refinement had bred. To think they had come to this!

Turning tail for the sake of her safety, to abandon a good man, her childhood friend, and conjure up some fleeting excuse that would save them from facing their own cowardice.

'Forever Lost (Reprise)'.

But they wouldn't heed to that call, the call of guilt.
There was only one man she could convince, and there was only one way she could do it.

She stole a glance at Jack, handcuffed and mildly dejected.
He was going to look an awful lot more distraught in a moment.

She had to put her life back on track.
She had to get on with her own path, and leave all of this nonsense behind her.

She had to save Will.
And she couldn't watch Jack's spirit crumble, as he lost his chance to save the Pearl yet again.

She would rather see his heart dented by her, than broken by Barbossa's theft.
She took a tentative breath, lingering on her last moment of real freedom.

Freedom. Ironic, how her being rescued by her family had led her into anything but freedom.

She was going to detest herself for this later.

But there was no other way. And it was her duty. To herself, to Will, to Jack.
Duty couldn't be ignored.

She tried to keep her voice from breaking as she thrust those few words at James, accepting that she could never turn back now, not even to look at what she had lost.
It was always going to be this way.

"Commodore, I beg you, please do this. For me. As a wedding gift."

A pause that felt like the echo of a drop in time and space itself resounded.
She tried to draw breath and found that her chest was too tight.

That was it. Her life stolen - from the most unexpected thieves.

"Elizabeth!" her father sounded breathlessly delighted - relieved, even, "Are you accepting the Commodore's proposal?"

No. Her entire body and soul screamed out of the darkness.

"I am." she said, blankly, looking only at James, willing herself not to glance anywhere else.

Not at Jack.

She could sense him, just standing there, all sense of wry humour at James' attitude gone from his expression.
His eyes were like black beams. Boring into the side of her head.

He couldn't quite believe what he had just heard.

"Lizzie." his gruff, quiet voice came involuntarily from his throat.

Elizabeth's gut clenched the second she heard her name - her real name - uttered by those unsmiling, angelic lips.
She already hated herself.

And she couldn't help turning around to gaze at him straight, to confront him with the full force of her own accusing stare.
This was as much his fault as it was her's.
He should never have touched her. He should never have taught her to want things that she wasn't allowed to have.

He should never have allowed himself to desire something he couldn't own, either.

His eyes weren't narrowed or shrewdly calculating, as she would have expected them to be. Instead they looked askance at her, wide and slightly unfocused, like a startled stag.
His lips were slightly parted in his pained confusion, his entire body rigid.

In that moment she almost caved, witnessing his genuine surprise, his honest, open wounds that her words had sliced into him.
She realised that he cared.
Not enough to step up. Not enough to draw his pistol and threaten anyone aboard that ship who would stand between them.

Somehow, insanely, she wished that he would do something as recklessly stupid and bold as that.
She wished that he would take the whole ship hostage. Command the crew to sail them all to the Isle de Muerta under him.

Take her in his arms, let her feel his strength, his ability to rule over her, let her know that she wasn't being given a choice in the matter; that she was pirate, but through his power, not her's.

If only he would force her with his irrefutable, masculine hand.
If she didn't have to be the one to take the blame for all of her secret, filthy wishes.

She would do it. She would gladly give herself up to him.

But he wasn't going to create a single-handed mutiny for her sake. She had betrayed him.
He must feel that he was nothing to her.

And he would overcome it. He would push her aside and continue with his life, escape to his infinite freedom and find another bonny lass to woo on a rum-soaked beach.

His life would carry on unchangingly without her.
And she would be left here.

"Lizzie..."

"That's quite enough." Norrington interrupted, suddenly incredibly protective over his fiancée's very name, "Take him to my quarters. He will direct us to the enemy, and then we may dispense of him in the brig."

His fiancée. How did something so disastrous happen in such a fleeting instant?

Jack allowed himself to be led away, never taking his eyes off Lizzie. She looked down at her feet, putting her arms around herself unconsciously to deflect him.

She had been planning this all along.
It was why she had asked him never to tell.

She had - used him?

With this last, piercing, impossible thought, Jack turned his head away from her, tucked his chin into his chest, and trod with reluctant, heavy feet to the stern quarters.