She looked out into the evening sky, orange, pink and yellow lining the horizon in front of her. The view was breathtaking, one most people could only dream of seeing. The palm trees that dotted the ground below, the white sand along the beach and the clear blue water of the ocean.

She, however, saw none of it. Anger and pain etched paths onto her normally smooth and lovely face, as she whispered curses that no one of her status should know.

A fresh wave of frustration(and hormones, she conceded) hit her, and she could contain it no longer.

"I hate you!" she screamed out into the night, eliciting more than a few curious glances from the beach below.

"I hate you." she echoed again, much more quietly than the first time.

Her anger and sorrow was not directed at a person on the beach, nor any person at all. It was directed at the water that surrounded the island that she lived on, the water that had taken her husband from her. The stupid, Godforsaken sea.

It had not taken her husband in the usually sense; that is to say, it had not killed him. Oh, but it had taken him from her. The call of the sea beckoned him to it, called to him with notions of glory and treasure to be found out in the open water.

At first, she knew, he tried to repress it. He tried to be a good husband, with his feet firmly planted onto the ground and a house to come home to. She knew that when he was hard at work in that sweltering blacksmith's shop, that he would stop and listen to the sea as it lapped up onto the shore, then headed back out again.

During the night, she would sometimes wake, and find that the warm body next to her was gone. But she had only to look to the window in their room, the one that had that cursed ocean view, and he would be there, hands behind his back and a look of longing upon his face.

She soon came to realize, with a cold, hard aching in her heart, that she would have to let him go. He would never leave of his own accord, respecting her and loving her as much as he did. But if she could convince him that she didn't love him anymore, he would go and follow the call of the sea.

*_________________________________________*

"I don't love you anymore, Will." she said, trying not to collapse into tears. If she did, he'd know that it was all a charade.

"What?" he breathed, disbelieving the words that came from his beloved wife's mouth.

"I said I don't love you anymore!" the words came out in a jumble as she choked back a sob. She had to keep a straight face, she had too.

But the sorrow and shock on her lover's face was unbearable to see, and she almost collapsed right there, almost whispered to him that it was all a lie, and that she wanted him here with her.

No. She had to restrain herself.

"I-I don't understand..." he stuttered. "W-what are you telling me?"

She put on an air of scorn, though she longed just to collapse into his arms. "We don't love each other anymore, Will. I see you look to the sea, and I know you want to be there. I want you to go, and to never come back. There's no place for you here."

A single tear glistened in his left eye, and Elizabeth wanted nothing else but just to wipe it from his eye. "I-I thought you were happy." he whispered, "I thought that we were in love."

"You thought wrong." With that, she turned, and started to leave, finally allowing the tears to come.

She moved away quickly, and could hear his angry voice at her back. "Fine! I'll leave, Elizabeth! I never loved you anyways! Do you hear me?!" he sobbed, "I never loved you!"

It took all of Elizabeth's will power to keep moving, to stop herself from turning around and running back to him. She headed back to their home, their bed, and collapsed, finally releasing the sobs and tears that she had repressed.

*______________________________*

She sighed now, and struggled over to the bed. Tears lapped at the corners of her eyes as she laid down onto her back, and placed a hand onto her growing stomach. He had left the day after the argument, early in the morning without saying a word to her. It was only fitting that a few days after his departure, she had learnt that they were expecting a child.

Her head turned to the side, and she watched as the sun set down below the horizon. She laid there for hours, having nothing else to do with her time. Her father, of course, was worried about her, and surprisingly, so was James Norrington. She welcomed their help and support in her time of need, and wondered if James would be her child's father figure.

Night overcame Port Royal, and Elizabeth now felt sleep, not tears, tugging at her eyes. Quickly undressing into her nightgown, she slipped under her covers and blew out the candle. Her pillow still smelt of Will, and took in a deep breath, remembering his musky scent.

Her last coherent thought before plunging into the world of sleep was one of Will, and if he was thinking of her.

*This is a companion piece to Willow, a stand-alone and explaining how the separation between Elizabeth and Will came to be. There may be more to come, but for now, this is it.

P.S: In the first chapter to Willow, I state that Elizabeth left Will. In hindsight, I meant to put that it was in fact Will that left, but Elizabeth was the one that drove him away. I'm saying this just to clear up any confusion in the matter. Thank you.

Adios,

~Aria*