Elizabeth stands at the prow of the HMS Dauntless, her head held high, singing a pirate shanty she had recently learned. The song seemed fitting to the thick fog, words ringing out across the gloom. The water barely rippled as the ship moved through it silently, the fog easily parting for it but not revealing anything further.

"We extort, we pilfer, we filch, we sack, drink up me hearties-" she gasps loudly as a calloused hand comes down hard on her shoulder, effectively stopping the singing. She stood still, eyes wide as though frozen.

"Quiet missy," Mr. Gibbs hisses into her ear. "Cursed pirates sail these waters. You want to call 'em down on us?"

Elizabeth stares at him, too surprised to answer. She had just been singing a song to break up the gloom the mist had brought. What was wrong with that?

Footsteps sound on the wooden deck, before Captain Norrington calls, "Mr. Gibbs." Elizabeth's father, Governor Swann, stands slightly behind him, looking nervous and on-edge.

"That will do," Norrington continues, sounding rather stern.

"She was singing about pirates. Bad luck to sing about pirates, with us mired in this unnatural fog- mark my words," Mr. Gibbs tries to explain.

"Consider them marked. On your way."

"Aye, Captain." Mr. Gibbs begins walking away, adding, "Bad luck to have a woman aboard, too. Even a miniature one," and he's gone before Elizabeth can reply.

She turns to Captain Norrington instead, saying, "I think it would be rather exciting to meet a pirate."

His mouth turns up in a little smile that doesn't reach his eyes, the expression he always makes when he doesn't take her seriously. Elizabeth can feel disappointment even before he starts speaking.

"Think again, Miss Swann. Vile and dissolute creatures, the lot of them. I intend to see to it that any man who sails under the pirate flag or wears a pirate brand gets what he deserves." His smile turns a little more sinister, and she shivers a little in anticipation. "A short drop and a sudden stop." A what? Elizabeth turns to Mister Gibbs, standing a distance away, for elaboration. He mimes a man being hung, and she gulps in fear. Her father steps in then.

"Captain Norrington... I appreciate your fervor, but I am concerned about the effect this will have on my daughter."

Norrington nods, already beginning to walk away. "My apologies, Governor."

Elizabeth turns to her father, wanting to make someone understand. "Actually, I find it all fascinating."

Her father sighs heavily. "And that's what concerns me. Elizabeth, dear... We will be landing in Port Royal very soon, and beginning our new lives. Wouldn't it be wonderful if we comport ourselves as befits our class and station?"

She frowns, realizing that none of the adults would understand. "Yes, father," she gives in. Elizabeth turns to gaze again at the great expanse of fog, saying to herself, "I still think it would be exciting to meet a pirate..."

After a while of watching the smooth water slide past the hull of the ship, she suddenly notices the water moving in a peculiar way. She follows the movement with her eyes to a faded white parasol drifting in the water. Once it passes, she looks again to the prow of the ship, and sees a wooden raft. A limp form of a boy is draped over it, and she inhales sharply upon realization.

"Look! A boy! There's a boy in the water!" Elizabeth calls out to the crew of HMS Dauntless. Captain Norrington and her father glance over the rails, and Norrington orders for the crew to bring him up.

Once they had pulled him over the ship's rails, Elizabeth quickly moved to study the boy she had helped rescue. His dark brown hair is plastered to his forehead, and his relatively light skin is plainly soaked. He wears simple clothes, and a thin gold chain is hung around his neck.

She tunes out what the crew is saying, only looking up when they all fall silent. The remains of a ship burns in the previously empty water. As they watch, the main mast breaks and falls. Fire surrounds everything, and Mr. Gibbs comes down from the rigging. A British flag lays just under the water's surface.

The crew continue in hushed voices, but Elizabeth turns her attention back to the boy. She assesses him for injuries, and finds none, to her surprise. Two crew members take him to a different place on deck, and her father pulls her away from the rail.

"Elizabeth, I want you to accompany the boy. He's in your charge now. You'll watch over him?" he asks her. Elizabeth nods gravely, and goes to kneel beside the boy.

After a moment, she reaches her hand out to brush the hair from his eyes, and she gasps softly as her wrist is tightly grabbed. She locks eyes with the boy, and moves her hand down to be holding his instead. "It's okay." she tells him. "My name is Elizabeth Swann."

"Will Turner," is his gasped reply, and she has enough time to tell Will that she's watching over him before he passes out again.

The movement causes Will's shirt collar to open further, and she sees the edge of a gold pendant hanging from the gold chain. She pulls it out from the folds of his shirt, and holds the flat golden medallion in her hand. Both sides of it show a grinning skull surrounded with intricate patterns.

"You're a pirate," she realizes. Footsteps approach her, and Elizabeth quickly yanks the pendant from his neck, and hides it behind her as she turns to face Captain Norrington.

"Did he speak?"

"His name is Will Turner- that's all I found out," she replied, hoping he couldn't sense the nervousness in her voice.

"Take him below," he orders the two crewmen. He hurries off again, and Elizabeth steals to the stern, clutching the medallion tightly in her fist.

A cold wisp of wind brushes over her hand and she looks up. In the distance, gliding through the fog, is a large black ship with torn black sails. Most of the ship disappears into the fog, leaving only the mizzenmast to linger. A black flag bearing the typical skull-and-crossbones flutters in the wind.

Elizabeth glances between the pendant and the flag, the skulls being identical. As she watches the flag in the fog, the skull displayed there seems to turn and grin at her- she closes her eyes tightly.

When she opens them again, she's in her bedroom at the mansion, the light from the window falling across her face. Her breathing is ragged, and her nightgown is twisted from tossing and turning.

Elizabeth waits until her breathing has evened out before sitting up, resting her back against the headboard. Normally she would have been out and dressing for the day already, but she was still in shock from the dream. It was so realistic that she wanted to call it a memory, but that had certainly never happened in her life. The ships and style of clothing reminded her of another century.

She feels the urge suddenly to open up her dresser drawer. She stares at the few items there before instincts take over, leading her to unlatch a secret compartment she didn't know was there, and her breath hitches.

Lying in the black velvet, collecting dust, was a familiar golden medallion.