So…
you've stumbled upon my story. Read on, then, but first, I'd
like to thank my beta-reader, StephCalvino. You rock my socks!!
It is possible to wake yourself from a dream, that colourful haze that comes to you during sleep; you just have to really, really want to return to the waking world. Sometimes you're able to pull yourself away, other times you just have to endure whatever your restless mind has in store for you. Usually it's a nightmare you're trying to get out of, or one would assume.
But this particular night-time vision was no nightmare. Yet she wanted to escape from it…
… And she wanted to stay all the same.
She knows this place, once upon a time long forgotten. She's wandered through these trees, danced across this sand. A warm golden light is cascading through the green foliage of the palms above her head, dappling her much-too-thick dress. Absentmindedly she sits down on the soft sand beneath her and takes off the cumbersome shoes, peels away the luxurious silk stockings. Knowing how improper it is, but knowing that no one is there, she lifts her skirts to her knees, exposing her bare calves so they can feel the midday breeze.
She sits there for a few moments, in a grove of palm trees, gazing down the path where she came. Even in a dream, she knows that she is waiting for someone. Who? a part of her questions, a piece of her mind not in the dream.
Eventually she stands up again and slowly ambles to the small expanse of beach beyond the trees, where her footwear lies discarded. Gently her toes prod the sand, burned by the sun on top, but delightfully cool and damp underneath. Once more she glances back to the trees, but still no one is there. Feeling a waver of disappointment, she turns to the placid waves that are softly creeping upward, only to pause and fall back to the ocean. For a moment, she wishes they could take her with them, to that great sapphire world only inches from where she is standing, but nigh impossible to reach.
Suddenly she feels the presence of someone behind her, and something swoops in her chest- it is the one she has been waiting for. Strong arms envelope her from behind, a comforting, familiar grasp in which she can lose herself in. She does nothing, just stands there within his embrace, the water whispering past their ankles, an immense, calm emotion settling upon her, one that she has not felt for a long time.
Tender lips brush her sun-bleached hair, and her heart shivers at the mere prospect. He kisses the top of her head, her temple, her cheek, his breath lightly tickling her skin. The powerful emotion builds up even stronger inside her, and she turns to face him, to drink in his perfect face.
The other part of her feels only terror, confusion, as she recognizes the other person. She knows this man, obviously, but she should not be here with him, not even in slumber; he is not the same man that is snoring next to her body in the waking world, that terrible, beautiful world that she once loved, now never wants to return to.
No! Wake up! the sensible part of her says, but the other half, the one in the dream with the forgotten man, still stays, losing herself in the deep brown orbs and shy, childlike smile of her partner.
Wake up. She must.
And suddenly- reluctantly- willingly she does.
She remained still for many long moments, listening to the ragged, rum-scented breathing of her lover beside her on the rickety bed. After many fearful notions galloped through her mind, she craned her neck towards him and saw his familiar tanned face, unusually calm; sleep was the only world that her lover could look so peaceful. In waking he was a lively, loquacious type of character, someone who she'd always admire for that fact.
He mumbled something in his sleep, causing her to smile, but fear was still behind her eyes. Slowly, as not to wake him, she crawled out of bed and faced their cabin window, the glass panes dirty and swirled from all the ship's years at sea. A faint trace of pink ran along the horizon, promising a morning soon to come; she focused her eyes on this, but let her mind wander.
It wasn't the first time she'd had this dream, this vision of her and another person alone on a beach. But it was the first time she'd been able to see his face. A face she'd long since been trying to push away from her mind.
That wasn't her life now, she reminded herself. This was her life, an existence of excitement and fear, of treasure and frustration, of passion and arguments. She had made a choice; that choice was what she wanted, and she would have no other. She loved the man snoring on the bed now, that she was certain of- any other feeling, any hint of infatuation she had felt towards the other man she'd all but banished from her mind.
Yes, of that she was certain, she told herself again.
Sighing once as the sky began to glow, Elizabeth Swann paced back to the bed she shared with Jack Sparrow, the roguish pirate she had given up everything for- everything but her heart. The heart she had forced away from another man, a man whose own heart she was sure was now broken.
But Elizabeth couldn't think about Will Turner now- not in the new life she had chosen.
That was how it would stay.
Reviews are greatly appreciated, even if it's criticism- I'd like to know how I'm doing.