Disclaimer: Disney own everything. Jack, Elizabeth, Will, and the entire POTC universe.

Written because I've always believed that Disney did the dirty on Elizabeth Swann. Having watched the movies as a teen, Elizabeth was the perfect strong female character for me to latch onto as influence in my own life. She breaks out of society, and does what she wants, propriety be damned. She's flawed and powerful and vulnerable. She's feminine, but can hold her own against any man. She's imperfect, and that why I loved her, as a character. I also strongly believed that Will is fine enough for a first love, but by the end of the films, they were too different - Sparrabeth all the way! I was so upset to see in DMTNT, they had stuffed her back into a corset, and I refuse to believe that Jack wouldn't have been a part of her life in some way - and Henry's life. That their paths wouldn't have crossed again over the twenty years between AWE and DMTNT. Nor do I accept that Elizabeth, after such a great character arch, would have settled down with her son, on land, dressed up in corsets again and waited for her husband. No. She ended AWE the Pirate King, with a ship of her own. She'd have gone off and had adventures, and been the badass Queen we know her to be, making the most of all life had to give her, while caring for Will's heart.

So this series celebrates that side of Elizabeth. Features some Willabeth, more Sparrabeth, but mostly just Elizabeth as King, Captain, mother and strong, independent woman, living her life by her own terms.

Enjoy :)

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Chapter One: Honeymoon Island

With a flash of green, it was over. The honeymoon was over. Digging her feet deeper into the wet sand, Elizabeth stared out at the horizon, now empty, feeling the sea lap so enticingly around her ankles, anchoring her.

What now?

She was a wife and a widow, her husband lost to her, and yet she must remain faithful. For ten years, she must wait for him, and keep him in her heart. Can love last so long without so much as a look, a kiss? Perhaps she would have once believed it to be possible, during her younger, sillier days when life was mere romance, without substance or experience. But now?

Glancing to her left, there lay the chest, within which her husband's heart continued to beat its steady, impossible rhythm. Picking it up, she held it close, pressing her ear against the cool surface of the lid. Thump, thump, thump.

Reason told her that this love can't last, that there was no marriage to salvage - he is dead, lost to the sea, and she is left a widow. They married in haste, after months of bitterness and discord between them. They married in the heat of battle. Would she have said yes, had they waited until the cannon fire ceased? Had they not been so convinced that death was coming for them, nipping at their heels. But then, of course, Will's fate was sealed, and she could be glad at least that he has someone with whom to keep his heart safe.

No, reason be damned, she had made a promise, and she must keep Will close, as close as he had been that day, when their love had burned, fierce and renewed, any past doubts cast aside. She had chosen him, and he her, and she must hold onto that, for the sake of his soul.

They had talked little, lost to each other from the instant they set foot on this spit of land. He was in her heart now, by God, and if they had but one day as man and wife, they would make the most of each other, tasting each other, with clumsy touches and eager kisses, all to the steady chant of 'I love you, I love you, I love you'. Yes, William Turner reaffirmed his place in her heart that day, and she held onto that, gripping the chest tight so that his heartbeat matched her own.

Eventually, however, talk was necessary, and they had sat together, fingers interlaced, on the sand, listening for a moment to the gentle crashing of waves against the shore.

It was he who broke the silence.

"Elizabeth?"

She inclined her head towards him. "Hmm?"

"Where will you go, from here?"

Looking at him, she smiled. His eyes still bore that same doting concern which he had worn for all of these years, as though she were a delicate flower in need of protection, and yet there was a newfound wisdom there, a solemn acceptance of the curse laid upon him - upon them both. And an understanding; she had proven herself to more than capable of caring for herself. She didn't need his protection. She would be just fine.

"Before leaving the Pearl, I signalled for The Empress to wait for me. Assuming that my crew are loyal to me, they will be here just after sunset, and I intend on heading to Shipwreck Cove, to take up my place as King."

"Assuming..." Will said uneasily.

"I am their King and have just led them to victory in a battle against an Armada. I think, surely, I have proved myself worthy as their Captain?"

"Surely."

"And, from there... Will," She paused, glancing at him uncertainly. "You know I can't give up the sea, and wait for you on land."

He smirked, running his free hand through the sand in thought, while the hand which intertwined with hers squeezed her fingers that little bit tighter. "I know." He paused, and she watched him, his head turned away from her, waiting for him to speak again. "Was it unkind of me, Elizabeth? To marry you. To condemn you to this."

Sighing, she reached out, stroking his head as she turned his chin towards her. "No." She spoke with such conviction, that she almost believed it, and he sighed, trusting her. "You weren't to know what fate had in store for you. None of us were to know. And you? Would you resent me? For having the freedom to roam, while you are condemned to ten years of ferrying the souls of the dead?"

His hands stroked her hair gently, and they looked at each other, each cupping the face of the other, with such bittersweet honesty in their eyes.

"Resent you? Never. Envy you... perhaps. I can't deny that, but I could never try and shackle you, or tell you that you must give up the life you love simply because fate has deprived me of mine. That wouldn't be fair of me, Elizabeth, and I know that even trying would only result in my losing you forever."

For a moment, they said nothing, until Elizabeth leapt up suddenly, with a gasp.

"I almost forgot!" She cried, hurrying off towards the abandoned coat which she had so hastily removed. Lifting it from the sand, she plucked a fold of parchment from the pocket, a stump of a quill and a pot of ink, its lid leaking and staining her fingers, and rushed back to her perplexed husband. "Come." She beckoned him towards a flat rock, spreading the parchment out. She cursed to herself as a smudge of ink left fingerprints along the edge of the page and took a moment to wipe her hands against her dress, the under-layer of her armour, which had been discarded across the sand.

"What is this?" Will asked, peering over her shoulder.

"Barbossa drew it up hastily while Gibbs readied the longboat. Look, he has signed as having performed the ceremony, and Pintel and Ragetti left their marks as witnesses, and there is my signature." Opening the ink bottle, with care, she dipped the quill, handing it to Will. "We are not legally wed unless you sign. Technically, our witnesses are supposed to be present when you sign too, but I was hardly going to bring them along on our honeymoon now, was I?" She was speaking too quickly, rushing to get the words out as a coil tightened in her belly.

Will looked at the quill in her hand, taking it hesitantly. "Elizabeth... if I sign this, would I be making you legally my wife, or my widow?" He glanced again at the chest which contained his heart.

"If you don't sign it, in the eyes of society, I am now nothing but your whore."

He winced at the word, but couldn't help but chuckle. "If you cared for society's rules, Elizabeth, you'd be long now married to Norrington, perhaps a mother, or on way to being one." He twirled the quill nervously.

"I'm not asking for you to sign for the sake of society." She said, her jaw protruding in that defiant way, eyes ablaze. "But to acknowledge what we have. Who would care for your heart, if not your wife?"

He shook his head, sadly. "And if you meet another, and wish to marry them instead?"

She smirked. "Then I would be your widow, and free to do so, in the eyes of society. But I would be condemning you to Jones' fate. I'll wait for you, Will. I must."

He placed the quill down, shaking his head.

"You must? Yes, I have condemned you too."

"Just because I must, doesn't mean that I would be doing so unwillingly. I love you, Will."

"But I won't be there for you, Elizabeth." He glanced out towards the sun, which was beginning its descent towards the ocean waves. They had but a few hours left together. "Another might."

"Yes, another might." She confessed. "I may meet another, but I will be right here, in ten years, Will, waiting for you, and then the curse will be lifted. What happens between us beyond then... well, it would be futile discussing the 'what ifs' until, and only if, they come to pass."

He nodded again, folding the parchment. He held it out towards her. "If I sign that, and you declare yourself my widow and marry another, what would happen if in ten years' time, even if you do meet me here, and the curse is lifted, your long-dead first husband strolls back into the land of the living? Suddenly you're a bigamist. No. Keep it. Keep it with my heart. If we both still wish for my signature alongside yours in ten years, after this curse is lifted, I shall sign it, happily, and we can truly be man and wife."

Elizabeth sighed, taking the parchment, and tucking it into the folds of her dress, against her breast.

There was nothing more to be said, but to give themselves to each other, one last time.

And, with a final kiss and a flash of green, he was gone.

The chest still clutched tight against her, she turned to retrieve her coat; the temperature would drop quickly, now that the sun had dipped below the seas. She had to find her crew, her ship.

She couldn't help but notice the other ship missing from the horizon. How quickly had they weighed anchor and sailed away into the distance, away from her? She shuddered sadly. The Pearl had been such a part of her life for the past three years. She had fought there, lived there, married there, sounded her battle cries, and rallied her army there. She had become her own. Not alone, of course. No, she had had help to escape the confines which society had laid upon her, the hours of practice with a sword amongst the dust of the blacksmith shop with Will, the wise tutoring of Barbossa during those fretful days as they sailed to Singapore, and a pair of dark, haunting eyes which seemed to see her truly for what she was. Pirate. For all his teasing and lies and mischief, no other had helped her more to realise her true self, perhaps, than-

A flash of movement caught her eye, and she glanced to the left, letting out a gasp.

"Jack!"

A gold-toothed grin greeted her as the pirate came into view from beyond the rocks, his hips swaying almost effeminately with that signature swagger. One hand tucked into his sash, the other gripping an open bottle of rum, he didn't react as she ran towards him, abandoning Will's chest atop the rocks.

Throwing her arms around his neck, she hugged him tight. Hesitating a moment, his fingers rippling with indecision, he tapped her on the arms, urging her to take a step back.

"None of that now, love, tempting though you are in that dress, if it can be called such a thing." He eyed her greedily. "Else that husband of yours will have me guts for garters... and I'd rather stay on the right side of the new Captain of The Flying Dutchman, if I can help it."

"What has happened?" She asked, ignoring his teasing. "Why are you here? The Empress-?"

"Is awaiting her Captain just yonder, as instructed. You've got yourself a loyal crew, Captain Swann..." He held up his hands, realising his error, and with a smirk, corrected, "Captain Turner."

She smiled, though it did not reach her eyes. "Captain Turner is aboard the Dutchman. I would have myself be known as Captain Swann."

Jack raised a curious brow. "Honeymoon over so soon, darlin'?"

"Literally, yes." She turned again towards the empty horizon, hugging herself. "But Will and I are married. All but legally." She heard him take a step closer until they stood side by side. Taking the folded parchment from her dress, she handed it to him.

Jack read, taking a long swig of his rum as he did so.

"Will is far too good a man for the likes of me. Always was."

Jack smirked, handing her back the incomplete marriage certificate.

"He refused to sign." Elizabeth explained unnecessarily.

This surprised Jack. After years of chasing her, pining for her, the whelp had let her go, Elizabeth Swann, siren of the seas, as easily as that? And assumedly, after having... Perhaps there was hope for him as a pirate, yet.

"You were never one for settlin', love. You're a wild thing, as untameable as the sea. Perhaps he's finally realised that. You should be free to roam and do as you please, take what you want, go where you may, no husband there to stifle you."

"Actually, he refused to sign so that I may, if I wish, marry another."

Jack rolled his eyes. "How very noble of him. Tell me, love, I'm curious, at what point did he decide to allow you to remain a free woman? Before or after consummating your union?"

"Jack!" She snapped.

Jack whipped his head around with an uncomfortable twitch of his nose. It had always amazed him, how she could silence him with just a glance, or the bark of his name.

Her voice softer now, she looked down at her hands, sadness overwhelming her as she fought to control it. "He is still my husband, Jack. I love him and I shall wait for him. I will be here ten years from now, and until then, I shall keep his heart safe. I can't condemn Will to Davy Jones' fate, after all he has done."

"Ten years is a long time, love."

She chewed on her lip, sinking down into the sand. Jack followed, handing her the rum bottle. She took a long, gratifying swig.

He couldn't help but watch her, the fading blue light as sunset dipped into the night making her skin glow, pearl-like.

"I am a selfish woman, Jack. Always have been." She handed the bottle back to him, doodling shapes in the sand with her finger.

"Pirate." Jack muttered.

"Yes. Is it unforgivable of me, that what I want most right now, is to try and find out all I can about the... details of what Will's curse entails? And... more specifically, what is required of me?"

"Since when have you come to me for moral guidance?" He sniggered, leaning dangerously close. "I do recall a time, not so long ago, when you named my lack of a moral compass as one of the key differences between you and I."

"I was but a girl, then. Realising what I wanted, but not yet accepting what I am. Or what I am capable of."

"And now?"

She shook her head sadly.

"As you said, ten years is a long time, Jack."

"Aye, 'tis, love, 'tis. And you well know my thoughts on your moral predicament. Not that you've ever needed my permission to do anything you set your mind to, Lizzie, love."

She pursed her lips, something suddenly occurring to her. "You never did explain why you've come ashore. And where is your ship? Oh!" She gripped his forearm. "Barbossa?"

"The Pearl is anchored alongside your Empress, under the careful watch of one Mr. Gibbs. But I'm touched at your concern, love... or offended that you would so easily assume that that stinking codpiece could make off with me ship again. Like I wouldn't learn from prior mistakes. Barbossa is currently in the brig, it being the only place I can trust him to keep out of me way, and I'll be promptly dropping him off at Tortuga, first chance. As for why I am here, a handful of me crew are refilling our supply of drinking water as we speak. This is the only spot where we can do so for miles around, though it would have been an easier task during daylight, but tell the truth, none of us much fancied facing the wrath incurred from interrupting our Pirate King and the Captain of the Dutchman during such... passionate moments." He smiled knowingly.

Her eyes widened in sudden alarm. "You haven't been... lingering, have you?"

"Me, love?" He cried in mock indignation. "Many things I may be, but a peeping Tom, I am not! No, we kept our distance until the tell-tale flash of green." He waved vaguely towards the horizon. "And, truth be told, there is another reason why I in particular was so keen to come ashore." He leaned towards her, eyes burning, reading her so perfectly, and she found herself unable to look at him. "Are you alright, love?"

He spoke so softly, so unexpectedly, that words broke her, like taking an axe to a locked door, and a torrent swept through, uncontrollable, sobs wracking through her as she couldn't hold it in anymore. Too much had happened. Will, James, her father. Jack. Silently, he pulled her into his arms, for once, nothing suggestive in his actions.

"It's alright, love." He whispered through her hair. "Let it out. You'll be all the stronger for it."

She sobbed, clinging to him, for what felt like hours, until her throat was hoarse and sore, her eyes swollen almost shut. Jack's shirt was drenched with her tears, and yet, despite typically being a man uncomfortable with the emotions of women, he didn't say a word, didn't urge her to stop, or complain that they each had a crew they needed to return to. Nothing else mattered but making sure that she was alright, and that all of her pain was spent through her tears.

At last, she rubbed her face against the hem of her dress, leaning heavily against Jack's shoulder, his arm curled around her.

"Truly is a lovely frock you've got on, there, Lizzie." He teased, hoping to lighten her mood, now that she seemed to have finally run out of tears. "How can any man resist?"

"Mr. Sparrow," Elizabeth replied in mock indignation, a brief return to her haughtiest of accents, "I don't think I've had nearly enough rum to allow such talk."

Sighing, he looked towards the horizon, the night sky by now dark enough that it was difficult to define sky from sea. "I know exactly what you mean, love."

"I should thank you, Jack. You gave up your chance of immortality to save Will. Once again proving yourself to be a good man."

He smirked. "As it happens love, there's more than one way to gain immortal life." Shuffling slightly away from her, Elizabeth sat up straight, watching curiously as he turned his dark eyes towards her. "Have you heard of the fountain of youth?"

She rolls her eyes. "Another pirate legend?"

"Or so I thought, all these years, love, yes." Raising a finger pointedly, he reached to his side, pulling from his sash a rolled chart. Laying it out on the sand, he beckoned for Elizabeth to look closer. "But I had to keep myself occupied somehow while waiting for you and dear William to finish..." He waved dismissively towards the cave in the rocks. "Canoodling and the likes, and look what I found, amongst Barbossa's things, in me own cabin?"

Elizabeth's eyes widened. "Funny coincidence."

"Isn't it just? Hector must have come across these in Singapore, and I'd bet anything this is his next heading... well, he'll have to find his own ship. And his own charts." He rolled up the charts quickly, hugging them possessively to himself with a pout.

"So that's your next great venture, Captain Sparrow? The Fountain of Youth?"

He nodded sagely. "And yours is to find Calypso and have her clarify a few of the finer points of the terms of your mar-i-age."

Elizabeth winced. "Any chance you know where best to find her?"

"Now that she's free of her human bonds, no idea, love. But, if anyone is going to find her, it'll be you. You're determined enough. And you've the next ten years to do so. Unless, of course, you'd rather join me on my quest." He patted the charts, standing with a slightly drunken sway.

"I think mine has more urgency." She said, retrieving her coat and belt, and putting it on, suddenly noticing that her flesh was raised with goosebumps from the chill night air. "And besides," He sidled close to him, bringing her lips close to his ear. "I'm younger than you, Jack. I can more afford to wait." She leant back, smiling as he winced. "But let me know if you find it. Perhaps I might make a trip there myself, one day."

"And you call yourself a pirate."

"I believe a wise man once said that not all treasure is silver and gold, Jack."

"Or life-giving liquid, apparently."

"Indeed." Picking up the chest containing her husband's heart, she checked that her marriage certificate was still safe within her dress, before marching towards the rocks. Having cried away her sorrows, she was ready to face her crew. "Come, come, Jack. Our ships await."

"Aye, that they do." He smirked, tucking his charts back into his sash as he swaggered after her, his Pirate King.