As Freedom Dies

Synopsis: Set several years after At World’s End: Elizabeth Turner grieves the loss of her only son who has passed on, and Captain Jack Sparrow makes an unexpected visit. Jack/Elizabeth, ONESHOT.

Author’s Notes: This was originally intended to be a full out fledged story, but I kept tripping over some major plot holes and I never recovered. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this one-shot. Not one of my best pieces of work, I’ll admit to that, but I thought somebody out there might enjoy it. Also, props go to anyone who can find the quote from Batman Begins I put in here, it just fit so well, I had to do it. Feel free to tell me what you think, I love receiving reviews.

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended.

Sincerely,

HoistTheColours

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A cool breeze blew rough, straw-like grass against Elizabeth Turner’s face and arms, tickling her skin and gently arousing her from her sleep. Slowly opening her eyes, her black lashes fluttered lightly against her cheeks as the sun’s golden rays warmed her tanned skin. She must have fallen asleep. She was about to let her eyes flutter closed again when the sound of seagulls screeching and men shouting far off in the distance met her ears.

Elizabeth rolled onto her back tiredly, the grass rustling beneath her as she squinted her brown eyes against the warm sunlight.

Who is shouting?

While the island Will had deposited Elizabeth on after the battle wasn’t completely uninhabited, the small town was nearly three miles away, and she rarely, if ever, had any stray islanders wander around this part of the island.

Brushing her dirty blonde locks out of her face, Elizabeth warily pushed herself up off the grass and rose to her knees, holding her arm over her eyes to shield the sun as she looked out over the horizon and over the edge of the cliff.

The sky was a brilliant shade of cerulean blue, bright and clear with not a cloud in sight. Beneath her, white, foamy waves crashed forcefully against the craggy side of the cliff while the ocean breeze pushed the tall, untamed grass to flutter and dance in the wind, the rough texture brushing against the back of Elizabeth’s calves.

As she squinted her eyes harder against the sunlight, she suddenly came to realize that there was a ship not too far off, and it was advancing towards the island.

And it had black sails.

Jack?

Elizabeth quickly stood, her knees wobbling slightly from under her while black dots suddenly fluttered in front of her eyes and skirted across her version. She pushed her hands to her eyes and waited for the dizziness from standing up too fast to subside.

It couldn’t be him. She hadn’t seen him in twelve years—not since the day after the battle with the East India Trading Company when they had exchanged their last goodbyes. What was he doing here now? What if something horrible had happened?

Elizabeth suddenly felt dread set in, and her stomach twisted it on itself uncomfortably. What if he had passed away? What if Jack had been . . . killed? She couldn’t bear the thought.

Blocking the sunlight from her eyes once more, Elizabeth gazed out near the ship and noticed that they were lowering a longboat into the water—someone was obviously planning on advancing towards the island.

Brushing her hands over her dress and ridding it of any stray pieces of grass, she quickly began to run towards the side of the cliff where a narrow, jagged passage of “steps” were located that led to the beach.

In her haste, Elizabeth had scraped her legs on some of the sharp rocks, but otherwise made it to the bottom in record time.

The longboat was being oared farther on down the beach—a place where the sharp peaks of rocks didn’t crest the top of the water.

Elizabeth eagerly ran down beach, her long, dark green dress and her dirty blonde waves of hair blowing behind her as she ran barefoot across the sand, her heart beating rapidly in her chest and her cheeks flushing.

Elizabeth suddenly smiled—she could see him—she could see Jack!

Her heart instantly skipped a beat when she realized that he had noticed her too, a wide, gold-toothed smile breaking out across his features. She vaguely realized that there were other men in the boat, but she couldn’t even tear her eyes away from Jack to notice who they were.

The second the boat had reached the shore and Jack had stepped out, water cresting the upper half of his boots, Elizabeth ran to meet him, hardly even meeting his eyes before throwing herself into his arms, water splashing up around them as she wound her arms tightly around his neck. He tensed momentarily, and then she gradually felt him relax as he warmly returned her embrace, his warm, strong arms finding themselves around her small waist.

“Miss me?” The sound of his voice made Elizabeth’s knees feel weak as he smiled roguishly into her hair while Elizabeth hugged him to her tightly, bunching up the fabric of the back of his coat in her hands.

“Only a little,” Elizabeth relented, smiling faintly into his coat, fighting back tears. He smelt so good—just like she had always remembered. He smelt of spice from foreign lands, of rum and sea salt and driftwood—and then he smelt of Jack, a manly, musky sent that tickled her nose and heightened her senses.

She hadn’t been embraced by someone other than her late son for nearly two whole years. She hadn’t even realized how much she had missed the contact. Reluctantly, she felt Jack start to peel her arms away from him.

They stared at each other now, sizing the other one up with curious eyes. “You haven’t changed a bit, Jack.” Elizabeth offered him a small smile, meeting his dark, coal-lined eyes.

“I wish I could say the same about you, love. You’ve gotten even more beautiful than the last time I saw you.”

Despite herself, Elizabeth let herself be flattered by his words, and she felt her cheeks warming at his compliment. She was tired of trying to resist his charms. Right now she just wanted to be with him. Jack was the only one she had left in this world, it seemed. Everyone else had been taken from her—her father, her son, her husband, and even James Norrington. People she had all cared for her were now all gone—Jack was the only one left her cared for her as much as she cared for him.

After several moments of an awkward, relatively quiet silence, Elizabeth finally spoke. “Why are you here?” she questioned curiously, her voice quiet as she stared straight into Jack’s eyes.

“I heard about . . . Will,” Jack answered slowly, watching Elizabeth’s face closely for her reaction.

“ . . . Oh,” she whispered after a moment, nodding her head weakly. “I was informed by letter several months ago, from a charter ship that came to trade supplies with the locals in the village.” Elizabeth paused. “I wasn’t giving any details about . . . about how it happened.” Elizabeth’s voice broke off towards the end, and she shifted her eyes downwards towards the sand while Jack weakly nodded his head, his eyes drifting towards his ship that lay anchored just off the shore. The loud shouts and laughter from the crew were nearly drowned out by the sound of the waves.

A lot had happened in the last couple of years, Elizabeth realized. After she had given birth to a beautiful baby boy and had been raising him by herself on the island Will and her had conceived him on, her boy had been taken away from her after just twelve, short years. Later, she discovered that the two men who had attempted to kill her son and her were working for the East India Trading Company. Even though Beckett and Mercer were both dead now, that apparently hadn’t stopped other men from within the ranks of the East India Company to rise towards the upper ranks, seeking to abolish the pirates once and for all—something the EITC had formerly failed to do. They were now back for vengeance.

The night they had raided her house, they had demanded to know where the chest with Will’s heart was. She had refused to tell them – but then they found her son asleep in the bedroom, and they threatened to kill him if she didn’t relent to them the information they had asked for. Eventually, she ended up telling them, but that was only after putting up a hell of a fight. To her horror, they ended up killing her son anyway, and had even tried to kill her, and probably would have too, if it hadn’t of been for the random islander who had heard the screams that night as he was taking a walk along the beach and helped her ward of the attackers. Unfortunately, he hadn’t reached her in enough time to save her son, or the chest. It had been dug up from its hiding place in the cave on the beach. Elizabeth had watched the heart had been severed right before her very eyes. Not only had she watched her twelve year old son be taken from her, but her husband as well. The world truly was a cruel and heartless place, and Elizabeth had resigned herself from it long ago, living secluded by herself, never conversing or talking to others except for whenever necessary.

Elizabeth finally looked upwards and glanced behind Jack to see two other remaining men in the longboat, neither of whom she recognized. They were both staring at her and Jack curiously. No doubt Jack had probably mentioned her two them.

She suddenly sighed heavily and looked back at Jack, only to find that he was staring at her intently, one of his hands resting gently on top of his pistol that was stashed safely in the red and white striped sash that hung from his hips.

“So,“ he began, “you living in that cave over there or do you sleep in the sand?”

Elizabeth laughed genuinely, and Jack felt proud for making her smile, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Actually, the house is on the cliff.” Elizabeth turned behind her and motioned towards the huge boulder of rock. “Right up there.” She turned back around to face him. “Would you like to see it?”

“You got any rum up there? Afraid we’ve run a little low on tha ship.”

Elizabeth fought the urge to roll her eyes and smiled instead. “I’ll see what I can find,” she promised, picking up her skirts and turning as Jack followed her towards the “stairwell” of the cliff. Elizabeth heard Jack addressing the two crewmembers in the longboat and told them to wait where they were. “What about the rest of the crew?” Elizabeth suddenly asked, throwing Jack a quick glance over her shoulder as they walked.

“They’ll manage.”

The rest of the trip was strangely quiet, Jack and Elizabeth both having so much to say, but neither one quit knowing where to start. So much had happened since they last saw each other.

“Be careful of the sharp rocks,” Elizabeth advised once they reached the stairwell as she began to climb onto the rocks and hoist herself up, suddenly aware that Jack’s eyes were probably staring at her backside as he climbed up behind her. Her cheeks flushed unconsciously and she hoped he wouldn’t notice.

Once they both reached the top, Elizabeth dusted off her dress as Jack looked around, noting the tall, overgrown grass swaying in the breeze and the huge, sloping hill farther in front of him, away from the ocean. “What’s down there?” He pointed towards where he was looking.

“It leads towards the village; it’s about three miles from here. I don’t go there often.”

Jack nodded his head as they continued to walk, suddenly noticing a small, one-story stucco white house in the far distance vaguely coming into view.

“That certainly doesn’t look the home of a governor’s daughter,” Jack frowned.

“You forget I am Pirate King,” Elizabeth corrected.

“Tha’ doesn’t look like the home of a Pirate King, either.” Jack scrunched his noise and looked at it distastefully.

“You just don’t like it because it’s not a boat.”

“Ship, love, it’s not a ship.”

Elizabeth laughed, “No matter. It’s got a nice view of the ocean and I like it.”

Jack smiled to himself, she still had a hint of stubbornness to her.

When they finally neared the edge of the clearing and started to enter into the forest of palm trees, Jack was able to get a better look at the building that Elizabeth had referred to as her “home.”

It was white and square-shaped affair with two glass windows in the front of it and a plain blue door. Tall green weeds had grown up along the side of it, and now clung to the sides of the house at certain spots, climbing up the stucco walls until it reached the brown shingled roof. Jack even spied a small garden overflowing with fresh ripe vegetables in the back of the house in a small clearing.

The two of them kicked up small rocks and pebbles as they walked on the pathway to the house, which was a narrow dirt walkway accompanied by tall grass that grew up alongside of it. Jack decided that the overall place looked very calm and serene. The location was so horrible either. Perhaps it wasn’t so bad after all.

Elizabeth made her way to the front door while Jack trailed behind her, his eyes taking in the lush green jungle around him. They had literally just gone from being at the beach, to an open, grassy field, and then straight into a thick foliage of exotic jungle trees.

Elizabeth opened the door to her abode and then ordered Jack to leave it open to let in some fresh air. She immediately went towards the kitchen, leaving Jack standing awkwardly in the doorway as she went about opening windows and pulling out fresh fruit from a basket by the wash bowl, being the perfect house guest and preparing him a small meal. “Are you hungry?” she asked as she chopped a fresh cucumber into small slivers.

Jack smiled widely at her. “You cook, now? When I first met you I was under the impression that you didn’t even know how to boil water.”

Elizabeth smiled faintly and laid the knife on the counter as she went to retrieve a bowl from one the cupboards. “I’ll have you know that I most certainly know how to boil water, Jack Sparrow,” she replied indignantly, albeit teasingly.

“I am sorely mistaken, your highness,” Jack smiled and removed his hat, bowing mockingly at her.

Elizabeth laughed and dropped her head downwards, smiling as she gathered the cucumbers into the glass bowl. As an afterthought she began to walk towards Jack. “I’m going to get some strawberries. I’ll right back.” She passed Jack in the doorway and made her way towards the back of the house, but not before suddenly calling over her shoulder at him. “Make yourself comfortable!” she yelled, leaving Jack alone in be the house as he shifted from one foot to the other.

So this is where Lizzie had lived all these years, was it?

Hm.

The place was certainly nice—very clean, organized, and simple. She surprisingly had quite a lot of stuff too, most of which she probably had had transported from Port Royal, Jack assumed, seeing as how her father had died and probably had left all of his possessions for her.

The furniture was elegant, but didn’t seem out of place in the stucco house. The kitchen cabinets were all made of a soft, light colored oak wood, and the table Elizabeth had been cutting the cucumbers on was tall and square, and was also made of the same color of the cabinets.

Adjacent to the kitchen was the parlor where a large, ornately carved couch of dark mahogany wood with sea green cushions rested. Across from that was a matching settee, and next to that sat a small end table where several books and an old, bronze oil lamp lay.

There was a small, narrow hallway in between the parlor and the kitchen that appeared to branch off into two separate rooms, but Jack didn’t feel it in his place to snoop back there.

Finally moving from his spot in the doorway, Jack walked behind the large couch and inspected the large mahogany bookcase laden with colorful books and small, intricate ornaments and various decorations.

As Jack began reading the gold lettering on the spines of the books, a velvet red book with no title on it caught his eye, and he was just about to pull it out from the shelf when Elizabeth walked in, a fresh basket of strawberries in her hand.

“See any books you like?”

Jack didn’t respond to her question, however, and instead went to pick up a curious looking, metal, round shaped object, feeling the cool texture beneath his hands. Placing the item back on the shelf, Jack sighed and finally moved to sit on the couch, leaning back into the silk cushions and semi crossed his legs, putting his left foot onto his right knee, and resting it there while his right foot remained planted on the floor.

Jack was staring thoughtfully out the opened front door when Elizabeth’s voice broke him from his wandering thoughts. “Rum?” she asked, offering him a bottle while simultaneously setting down the bowl of strawberries and cucumbers next to him on the couch.

“Ah darling, you know me far too well,” he teased, eagerly accepting the bottle from her and taking a long swig.

“I always keep a stash under the cupboard just in case you ever decided to show up,” Elizabeth replied.

The corner of Jack’s mouth lifted slightly, wondering if her claim was true. Had she been hoping for him to show up all these years?

Jack suddenly felt guilty and took a long, hearty swig as Elizabeth seated herself on the settee across from him. He took notice in the fact that she didn’t bother with trying to look prim and proper and instead sat with shrugged shoulders and downcast eyes. That was something new.

He studied her silently for several long moments. Twelve years was a long time—and she looked as if she hadn’t even aged at all.

Her skin was darker now, tanned and toned from probably spending hours in the hot sun, either from working in the garden or laying on the beach. Her hair was longer now too, but it was still the same beautiful golden blonde he had always remembered it to be.

If he had to choose one thing, Jack would say that it was her eyes that had changed the most. Instead of the warm, chocolate brown they used to be, they now looked almost grayish in color, perhaps sadder, even. If it was true what they said about the eyes being the window to the soul, then Elizabeth’s must’ve been broken. Jack could detect a certain sorrow within her eyes, a loss of something, or perhaps a longing for something.

“How have you been, Jack?” Elizabeth suddenly asked, folding her hands in her lap and looking at him closely.

Jack didn’t want this. He didn’t want to have a serious conversation with her. He wanted to go back to the way things used to be and for them to be pleasant and joking again. He wanted to tease her and make sexual innuendos at her like he usually did. And he wanted her to brush him off like she usually did. He wanted to go back to a time when the East India Trading Company didn’t have the heart and rule the Caribbean. Hell, he’d even go back to fighting with Barbossa over the damn Black Pearl again – he just didn’t want to have to deal with what was happening now.

He sighed heavily, looking at the strawberries longingly for a moment, but sensing now wasn’t quite the right time to dig into them.

On second thought, he could always just lie to her. He could tell her that things had been splendid and that all was well. He could tell her that he didn’t miss her like hell all these years and didn’t think about her almost every waking second of his day. He could tell her that he had everything he ever could have wanted and more – but it all would have just been a lie.

An awful, terrible and ugly lie, at that.

In truth, things were horrible, probably worse than they had ever been. The times were changing; pirates all around the world were beginning to fade into the backdrop. They were beginning to blend into the scenery . . . only to soon be forgotten. Even Tortuga, the pirate capital of the Caribbean practically, was turning into a respectable town with respective streets that were lined with respectable looking houses with white picket fences and little children running around in the yard with little puppies. It was all so wrong. Jack missed the scoundrels and scallywags, the drunks and the whores, the bars and the rum. He missed the sights, the smells, the atmosphere. He missed the freedom.

Now that the East India Trading company had the heart, they ruled the seas. The pirates truly were now, becoming a dying breed.

It was a while since Jack had spoken, and Elizabeth frowned worriedly, afraid she had touched on a subject he didn’t quite want to answer. When she opened her mouth to speak, however, Jack spoke before her. “You don’t know, do you?” He glanced up at her from under his brows, and action that usually would have been playful if not for the seriousness that was drawn in his eyes.

“Know . . . what?” Elizabeth countered cautiously. What on earth is he talking about?

“Where did you keep the heart, ‘Lizabeth?” Jack suddenly questioned softly, watching as Elizabeth’s look of worry turned into knowing disappointment.

She exhaled softly. “I buried it in the cave, at the beach.” Jack nodded his head, and after a moment of silence Elizabeth carried on. “I dug in the sand for hours,” she whispered, her eyes locked onto the floor, “for hours I tried to dig a hole deep enough for the chest so that no one would ever be able to find it . . . but . . . but they did.” The last part of her sentence faded off as she tried to block out the obviously painful memory. “What don’t know I, Jack?”

Jack looked at her confusedly, “What?”

“You asked me if I knew something a moment ago . . . what is it that I don’t know?”

Jack swallowed thickly. He did not want to be having this conversation right now, and he certainly didn’t want to admit aloud what he was about to say.

“Elizabeth, the East India Trading Company . . . they rule the sea, now.”

Something strange happened then, and Elizabeth gasped quietly. “It’s all my fault, isn’t it? All this . . . the heart . . . everything, it was all of my doing.”

“Lizzie, it’s not your fault,” Jack said quickly, shaking his head. “You couldn’t control what happened.” Jack sighed heavily again, “It would have happened eventually, anyway. It was only a matter of time . . .” Jack’s voice faded off, and Elizabeth suddenly got the feeling that Jack wasn’t talking about the heart anymore, but the dissemination of the pirates, and the rise of the EITC.

“I’m so sorry, Jack.” Elizabeth had spoken so softly that Jack almost didn’t catch the words, but when he did, he offered her a small, half-hearted smile.

The room fell silent once more as the wind from outside drifted in through the opened door, and Jack watched as it twisted and curled Elizabeth’s locks around her downcast face, brushing softly against her tanned cheeks. Golden rays of warm sunlight danced on the tiled stone floor just inside the opened door, flaunting playful patterns and intricate designs while Jack still trained his eyes on Elizabeth.

It was several moments later when she finally spoke. “We had a son,” she said suddenly, matter-of-factly. “I named him Jack . . . you know.” Jack continued to look at her, watching her lashes flutter as she held her head down, intently staring at her interlaced fingers that lay in her lap.

Jack smiled faintly, still looking at her, “Good, strong name,” he replied quietly, remembering a time when he had told Will the same thing about his name, back on the Dauntless—or had it been the Interceptor? It had been so long ago . . . .

Elizabeth laughed quietly, but it was filled with a sad mirth, and Jack couldn’t help but furrow his eyebrows together in something akin to pain as he watched her.

“I would tell him stories about adventures and pirates,” Elizabeth began, her voice slowly coming stronger, “about you.” She suddenly looked up at Jack to see him staring fixedly at her. His gaze held something she had never witnessed before and it wretched her to see him look at her that way, so her eyes aimlessly drifted down into her lap again. “He wanted to be just like you. A pirate . . . I . . . I couldn’t convince him out of him.” She sniffled and then laughed sadly again, biting her bottom lip. “I just feel so lost without him, Jack. Without them,” she said helplessly, referring to both her son and Will.

Jack watched as a lone tear trailed down Elizabeth’s cheek. He almost hadn’t caught it, because the wind was still pushing Elizabeth’s locks against her face, but he did notice it, and it made his insides churn. He had only seen her cry one other time besides this, and it was back on the Flying Dutchmen, when Davy Jones had severed Will’s heart.

Painful memories suddenly came rushing back to him. Images, small phrases of clips of words, and scenes all came running through his head.

“I know what it feels like to . . . to lose someone that you . . . love.” Jack’s tone was solemn as he watched Elizabeth’s soft brown eyes finally lock with his own.

They stared for a few moments before Elizabeth finally spoke, still holding Jack’s unwavering gaze. “What do I do?” she asked weakly, her face contorted into one of sadness, her brows knitted together as if she were in pain.

“Move on,” Jack said simply, watching her expression carefully.

Elizabeth nodded her head back and forth and dropped her gaze back into her lap, “It’s just so hard.”

Jack frowned. He had never felt this way before. His heart was literally breaking for her, and it pained him to see her like this. She was suddenly so vulnerable. This wasn’t the strong, fearless Pirate King façade that she always put on; this was the real Lizzie, the fragile, innocent young girl, the sheltered governor’s daughter.

The couch creaked as Jack moved to stand up, and suddenly he found himself kneeling in front of Elizabeth. She weakly raised her head to look at him as another tear silently trailed down her cheek. Jack’s eyes were filled with such gentleness and understanding as Elizabeth looked at him that it was hard to believe that this man was actually a pirate.

Jack slowly brushed a lock of hair behind Elizabeth’s ear and gently rested his hand at the nape of her neck, looking up at her. “Why do we fall, Elizabeth?” he whispered lowly.

Elizabeth looked desperately into Jack’s eyes, searching back and forth between his dark orbs as if she were looking for object to save her from drowning.

Leaning in closer to Elizabeth he whispered gently to her,

“So we can pick ourselves back up again.”