A/N: You are halfway there. This is Elizabeth's point of view. I personally like Will's better, it made more sense to me. That's probably because I knew exactly what I was going to do with his part of the story when I sat down to write it. But then I thought of doing it from Elizabeth's point of view, and well... this is what became of that idea. Basically, I had no idea what I was doing with the story into I got the end. I hope you like it, and that Elizabeth's reactions make sense. Let me know.
Oh, I see Will and Elizabeth as being about seventeen-ish, if anyone is curious as to when this is supposed to take place.
Elizabeth Swann loved Christmas.
The excitement, the smells, the food, the family, the presents. But most of all she loved the feeling that permeated the house on Christmas morning, wrapped around her in her bed, and spread throughout all her body. The warmth of Christmas, the warmth of being loved, and the warmth of knowing that in this tumultuous world, Christmas was always the same. Her life had changed drastically early in her life with the death of her mother, but come Christmas morning she still woke up with the smell of fresh baked Christmas cake; a huge tree in the corner of the living room, presents spilling from beneath it, tokens of her father's and grandparents' love; the heavy oak table groaning beneath the weight of coffee cakes, eggs, flour dusted bread, sweetmeats, cheese, wine, beer, so much food Elizabeth's eyes and stomach couldn't take them all in. The stability in these traditions comforted Elizabeth more than the presents and food and other indulgences themselves.
As Elizabeth woke up on this Christmas morning, she knew that it would be no different. The warm honey smell of Christmas cake danced in her nose, the sounds of family and help bustling singing in her ears. Excitement gripped at Elizabeth, and she quickly bounded out of bed. She found a new dress lying across the foot of the bed, courtesy of her father. Grinning broadly, she called her maid to help her get changed.
"Did Hannah make those sugar cookies, Estrella?" Elizabeth asked as her maid laced up her dress.
"I'm sure she did, Miss. She has every year since you first discovered that you like them," Estrella replied, sounding a little disgruntled.
Elizabeth's smile grew as her mouth watered in anticipation. Estrella pulled on the laces of Elizabeth's dress, tying them in their usual criss-cross pattern. Finishing, Elizabeth went to the mirror to admire the way the dress accented her newly rounded figure.
"You look lovely, Miss," Estrella said.
Elizabeth smiled to herself, and then turned to see Estrella straightening her bed sheets.
"You don't need to do that, Strella. It's Christmas, no one should be working on a day like today!" Elizabeth said scandalously.
"I have to work on Christmas, Miss. How else will my family survive?"
She walked down the stairs to the cheerful living room in a suddenly somber mood. The cook was setting all of the different dishes on the table, the maid was doing a last quick sweep of the room, the butler was helping a servant with stringing some tinsel on the higher branches of the tree. They were all buzzing as the worked fervently, trying to get everything in place for the Swann's Christmas before they went home to celebrate in their own. It made Elizabeth angry that they all had to work on this magical morning for her own enjoyment. She was feeling slightly selfish when the butler turned and smiled at her.
"There you are, Elizabeth. How does the tree look?" he asked her.
"Beautifully," she answered, guilt gnawing away at her mind. If she had found something wrong with it, it would have been quickly amended. "Don't you have children, Bernerd?" she asked the man, although he was hardly surprised. Such questions were common from the inquisitive girl.
"Yes, Miss Elizabeth. I have a daughter," he answered her with a smile.
"Don't you feel bad that you aren't home with her on Christmas morning?" she asked him, feeling more self-centered by the moment.
Smiling kindly at her, he said, "I am."
Elizabeth blushed, but felt slightly better. "Do you know where father is?" Elizabeth asked him, trying to shift her embarrassment.
"In the foyer with Mr. Turner, I believe."
"Will is here?" Elizabeth said, all of her guilt and embarrassment washed away with that one statement. She turned and ran to the foyer.
"Will!" she called, catching him just as he was about to leave. He turned, and smiled at her. She walked over to him, smiling broadly. She was about to throw her arms around him when she saw his smile falter and his head bow.
"Miss Swann," he said, only respect that one would give to the Queen in his voice, not the warm familiarity she had hoped for.
She stopped abruptly, taken aback by his cool manner. Suddenly, it was hard for her to swallow.
"Why are you here, Will?" she asked. Although she was happy to see him, a visit from him was rare.
"Just delivering something for your father," he answered. A dawning sense of dread fanning throughout her body. He too was working on Christmas morning for her sake.
She nodded, swallowing and breathing becoming very difficult for her.
"Well, Merry Christmas, Miss Swann," Will said, giving her another bow. She wanted to hit him for that. She didn't want to be Miss Swann, especially not to him. She was just Elizabeth, no more special than anyone else.
"Merry Christmas, Will," she answered softly. She leaned forward and pressed a small kiss on his surprised lips, the only way she knew how to say See, I'm no different, Will. Don't be scared of me.
When she was met with a confused look, she pointed up at the mistletoe hanging over their heads, the mistletoe that had hung there every year. It was just an excuse though, a convenient lie to hide what she was longing to say.
The rest of the day, Elizabeth was in a despondent mood. Why must everyone treat her like she was a piece of china, pretty to look at but unable to touch? When would he realize that he was good enough for her?
She had made her way through the large pile of presents that had been heaped upon her, only a slender box with a clumsy bow was left. She slid the bow off and opened the box. Inside was a delicate locket. She pulled it out of the box, the heart was heavy and cool against her hand. She knew immediately it was what Will had delivered to her father. Squeezing it in her hand, she felt the weight inside her lessen.
He knew.