Here it is! The latest installment! I'm very very sorry, loves, for not updating, but schooling does come first. Lucky for you, though, my year is almost up, so I can almost guarentee more speedy updates in the coming weeks. Enjoy!

Tia Dalma's cabin was filled with light; every ledge, every shelf was covered in lanterns and oil lamps, warm light swaying back and forth like the ship itself. Barbossa was seated at the table, staring into a tankard of rum. Will sat near him, his hands folded in his lap and his eyes staring dully at some point on the table. As Jack closed the door behind them, Elizabeth shuddered Tia Dalma's pleased expression.

"Take a seat, da bot' o' ye," Dalma purred, setting two more tankards on the table. Elizabeth went mechanically to her seat, but Jack refused to move.

"We still on da course?" Dalma asked Barbossa.

"Aye," the pirate grumbled, refusing to meet anyone's gaze.

"Good, good. Now, den, Miz 'Lizabet', I got da news fo' ye," Dalma smiled. "Ye're gettin' married!"

"I would really prefer not to, thank you," Elizabeth said quietly, her cheeks still damp from crying.

"Ah, but da man been waitin' fo' so long," the voodoo woman cackled. Her blackened grin grew at Elizabeth's perplexed look, and she said to Jack, "Ye couldn't tell 'er, could ye, Jack? Ye try, Dalma sure, ye try t' make 'er marry ye instead. Oh, poor Jack Spar-row!"

Jack didn't respond; he crossed his arms, leaning against one of the main braces in the cabin, sullenly studying the floorboards. Dalma laughed again, and Elizabeth's loathing for the woman turned white hot.

"Who exactly do you want me to marry?" she spat, enraged at Dalma's treatment toward the pirate.

"Ye don' know? Not a bit? Oh ho! 'Dis is good!" howled Tia Dalma. "She don' know after she wear da locket, after she see 'er lover in love wid me, after Spar-row so upset! She don' know!"

"Well, why don't you tell me," Elizabeth snapped, "or perhaps someone else could. You do have some idea of how to speak English, don't you?"

"Miz 'Lizabet'," Dalma smirked, some of her glory stolen by the retort, "ye be marryin' a man dat been waitin' fo' his bride fo' years! Him be so sad, he do anyt'ing t' keep da 'urt away. Even... lock it up."

"What?" Elizabeth gasped, blood running from her face. "You can't mean-"

"Davy Jones been waitin' fo' 'is bride," Tia Dalma smiled, her bangles clinking maliciously as she raised her hands. "On'y he not gettin' me... he gettin' ye."

"But... but he's-" Elizabeth gaped.

"A monster," Barbossa growled beneath his breath. "A vicious, cruel beast that sooner slay th' girl than marry 'er. Dalma, give th' plan up!"

"No!" Dalma spat, rounding on the pirate. "Ye know 'ow long I been livin' in dat bayou? Too long! I be wantin' me freedom!"

"Let Sparrow get Jones' heart back, an' we'll stab it clear through," Barbossa snapped. "Don't send Miss Swann t' 'er death."

"I cannae be free 'til dat man let go o' da past!" Dalma hissed, leaning over the table at Barbossa. "He marry da girl, an' I free t' go. He t'ink he marryin' me, but no, Dalma too tricky fo' dat! We put da locket round 'er neck, an' he t'ink it me!"

"Wot about when th' Flying Dutchman sinks?" Everyone turned to look at Jack, who finally wrenched his gaze away from some distant spot. "She'll drown. Or wot if Jones doesn't love you like you think he does? Wot then? You'll have wasted a perfectly good soul on a mad whim."

"He still love Tia Dalma," the voodoo woman protested. "I feel 'is love ev'ry day, like da sickness. It be wretched."

"Well, I imagine he'd have t' be somewhat sick t' love you," Jack muttered.

"Hush, Jack! It be workin' fo' ye, too," Dalma chided. "Ye marry Miz 'Lizabet' t' Jones in exchange fo' yer ship. An' after dat, ye free o' me will."

"It's only a ship..." Jack said beneath his breath, staring wretchedly at the floorboards.

"I'll jump ship," Elizabeth exclaimed, getting to her feet. The heat of panic began to seize her, and her voice hitched. "I-I'll kill myself! I'll-"

"Ye do not'ing," Dalma spat, pushing her face mere inches from the distraught Elizabeth. "Wot can ye do? Barbossa an' Spar-row obey me! Dey drag ye back aboard an' shove ye off t' Jones. Tia Dalma be da one wit' power here, Miz 'Lizabet'. Ye do as I say."

"You filthy trollop!" Elizabeth screamed, fists clenched at her sides. "You have no right-"

"I 'ave ev'ry right! I own ye! I own ye all!" snarled Dalma.

Elizabeth glared into Dalma's murky eyes, baring her teeth in a feral expression. She raised her right hand slightly, her knuckles brushing the knife hilt at her belt. Dalma squared her shoulders, head and bosom lifting slightly as she stared Elizabeth down.

"Draw da' blade an' Dalma ne'er release Jack," she hissed softly, her voice pricking Elizabeth's spine like one thousand needles. "Ye go quiet, an' I release Jack once 'e return from marryin' ye t' Jones. Ot'erwise, 'e be me slave... fo' eternity."

Elizabeth's breath hitched; she glanced over her shoulder at Jack. The pirate had gone back to melancholy, glumly staring at the floor. Something in Elizabeth tore; she should have married him when she had the chance. She could have saved herself and him. She would have broken Will's heart, but at least...

"Will," she gasped, turning to her fiance. She ran over to Will, who was still slumped in a chair, eyes vacant. She threw her arms about his knees, her own trembling limbs giving out on the floor, to stare pleadingly into his waxen expression. "Will! Please come back to me! Please! Say you love me. Say you'll save me! William Turner, please!"

Something, a spark, rippled through the brown depths of Will's eyes. His head jerked slightly, and he momentarily focused on her. Elizabeth held her breath, wishing, hoping that that was recognition in his gaze, but she went cold as Dalma's voice washed over the pair of them like a morning tide.

"William," the voodoo woman murmured, making Elizabeth cling tighter to the man, "who be da one ye love?"

"Will, no-" Elizabeth choked, but she couldn't drown out his haunting reply.

"I love Dalma," Will said, his voice empty. His eyes became glassy once more, lost.

"NO!" Elizabeth wailed, burying her face in the salty cloth around his knees. Her vision blurred from tears, body shaking. "No no no!"

The cabin was quiet except for Elizabeth's broken sobs. She clung to her lost love for some time, letting very emotion she had kept locked away spill forth. She had no more hope. Will would never be her own again, and she had turned down the one other man who might have rescued her from death.

Slowly, the tears subsided. Her heaving body calmed to a tremor, her eyes going dry from no more tears. Elizabeth felt something thick drape across her lap; she looked up with bloodshot eyes at Tia Dalma.

"Put on yer dress," Dalma ordered, nodding at the creamy cloth that lay across Elizabeth's legs. "Yer bride-groom awaits ye."