FIC: Governor Swann: Fata Morgana
Title: Fata Morgana
Pairings: None
Warnings: None
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean is not mine, blah, blah blah. 0-:-)
Summary: As the British Navy searches desperately for Elizabeth, Governor Weatherby Swann remembers his daughter. Set in "Curse of the Black Pearl".
Fata Morgana
Governor Weatherby Swann’s knuckles were white from where he’d been gripping the railing of the Dauntless, scanning the horizon with eyes that didn’t really see. He’d been standing there for hours, the sun beating upon his brow and making his head itch as his wig grew heavy with perspiration. His clothing was uncomfortably wet, but he refused to move. The Governor searched the water for any sign that would lead him to his daughter, anything that would indicate that his search was not in vain. Anything that would give hope. Anything that prove that his daughter wasn’t….
He choked on the word.
Dead.
He knew there was no hope, not really. Elizabeth had been missing for almost a week now. With no ransom demands coming forth, it was easy to assume the worst. Pirates were contemptible and depraved creatures and he had come to understand that the pirates aboard The Black Pearl were some of the most despicable pirates in the Caribbean. He remembered hearing the stories, whispered from sailor to sailor the first night after they had set sail.
The sordid tales surrounding the Pearl were numerous and discouraging. The Governor had fled to his cabin abruptly after hearing a story of a young girl ravished and left to die. He had sat at his desk, shaking as he struggled to control his emotions. They frothed within him like the angry sea, a mixture of rage, and despair and mostly dread. Dread at what they would find once they finally caught up with the devils.
Which would be worst, he wondered, finding his daughter’s dead body or looking into her living eyes and seeing the horrors that she had faced reflected there, knowing that he had failed her? He knew that it was very improbable that she’d escape the ship with her life, let alone her honor in tact. And then, what if they found nothing at all? The past couple days had proved unhelpful. They had no bearings, no clue at all where to even begin looking. It was as though the Pearl had vanished upon the ocean, a supernatural ghost ship of sorts.
Closing his eyes briefly, the Governor tried to remember everything he could about his daughter. When Elizabeth was younger she had been all tongue and cheek, a bit out of control in truth, but then again, Governor Swann and his wife, Victoria, had turned a blind eye to her faults. She had been young, after all, and such sauciness was endearing in youth. Always inquisitive, the young Elizabeth had wreaked a good bit of havoc in their London home. She was into everything and had vanished on several occasions, only to turn up later, sooty-faced and grinning. If it wasn’t one thing it was something else. Elizabeth and Victoria had been so much alike, he remembered, even if Victoria had possessed a better sense of propriety. Mother and daughter would often have verbal sparring matches, laughing as they lashed out with their tongues.
But then Victoria had died. She was struck down by a horrible feverish delirium that had almost stolen Elizabeth from him as well. He remembered feeling torn, unsure of whose bed side he should sit beside longer. He had been with Victoria when she died, mopping her forehead free of sweat. She hadn’t even known that he was there, staring wildly through him, seeing something that didn’t exist. Sobbing, he watched as the light faded from her eyes, dark brown and surprisingly deep. That day he was lost and hollow but deep inside him he knew that he still had a daughter that he must attend to. He would care for her fiercely and see her well.
And he did. Elizabeth’s recovery was slow and for a long time she couldn’t remember who or where she was. But then her memory had come back and she took the death of her mother badly.
Elizabeth hadn’t been the same after that, becoming sullen and prone of fits of sudden anger. She had been so young, only eight at the time, and the two years before they made the crossing to Jamaica had been rough for his daughter. And then on the crossing Elizabeth had met one William Turner.
The change in Elizabeth had been immediate. As soon as the young Mr. Turner was on his feet again, the couple became as thick as thieves and twice as mischievous. The Governor had been surprised to see Elizabeth laughing for the first time he could remember in ages, a grin fixed permanently on her face as she got into all sorts of trouble. Even after they had landed in Jamaica, Elizabeth had a way of disappearing from the manor and finding her way to the black smith’s shop where William was eventually apprenticed.
This had gone on for a while before the Governor had deemed it inappropriate. He had begun to hear talk questioning the honor of his daughter. Will was obviously enamored with Elizabeth and, being two years her senior, very aware that Elizabeth was of the female persuasion. When Elizabeth turned twelve he hired a new, stricter governess for his wayward daughter. Eventually, with painstaking slowness, the governess had managed to beat a sense of propriety into her stubborn head. Elizabeth and Will had stopped seeing each other and Will had finally realized that the two of them weren’t of the same station, with some encouragement from her father, of course. Elizabeth had grown into a beautiful young woman, with as strong of a volition as her mother before her had possessed. She was a brave young thing, courageous enough to face a heathen holding her hostage by gun point and spit insults into his grimy face.
And now?
A single tear escaped his still shut eyelid. Elizabeth had had such a bright future before her. Commodore Norrington, a fine and respectable military man, had even proposed to her. It was a marriage that he would have blessed without hesitation.
He knew in his heart that this wasn’t a rescue mission. It never had been. But he did vow revenge. He would send his men across the globe to catch the fiends that stole his daughter if he had to. No price was too high.
Wrestling with his emotions, Weatherby Swann opened his eyes, blinking at the blinding light thrown off the water. He squinted towards the horizon…
And for a moment didn’t believe what he was seeing. Surely it was a mirage, a fata morgana. His brain was making him see what it wanted to see on this godforsaken stretch of water.
Shaking his head, utterly speechless, Governor Swann closed his eyes and opened them again.
For on the horizon, where nothing rightly should be, was a great plume of smoke.
Pairings: None
Warnings: None
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean is not mine, blah, blah blah. 0-:-)
Summary: As the British Navy searches desperately for Elizabeth, Governor Weatherby Swann remembers his daughter. Set in "Curse of the Black Pearl".
Fata Morgana
Governor Weatherby Swann’s knuckles were white from where he’d been gripping the railing of the Dauntless, scanning the horizon with eyes that didn’t really see. He’d been standing there for hours, the sun beating upon his brow and making his head itch as his wig grew heavy with perspiration. His clothing was uncomfortably wet, but he refused to move. The Governor searched the water for any sign that would lead him to his daughter, anything that would indicate that his search was not in vain. Anything that would give hope. Anything that prove that his daughter wasn’t….
He choked on the word.
Dead.
He knew there was no hope, not really. Elizabeth had been missing for almost a week now. With no ransom demands coming forth, it was easy to assume the worst. Pirates were contemptible and depraved creatures and he had come to understand that the pirates aboard The Black Pearl were some of the most despicable pirates in the Caribbean. He remembered hearing the stories, whispered from sailor to sailor the first night after they had set sail.
The sordid tales surrounding the Pearl were numerous and discouraging. The Governor had fled to his cabin abruptly after hearing a story of a young girl ravished and left to die. He had sat at his desk, shaking as he struggled to control his emotions. They frothed within him like the angry sea, a mixture of rage, and despair and mostly dread. Dread at what they would find once they finally caught up with the devils.
Which would be worst, he wondered, finding his daughter’s dead body or looking into her living eyes and seeing the horrors that she had faced reflected there, knowing that he had failed her? He knew that it was very improbable that she’d escape the ship with her life, let alone her honor in tact. And then, what if they found nothing at all? The past couple days had proved unhelpful. They had no bearings, no clue at all where to even begin looking. It was as though the Pearl had vanished upon the ocean, a supernatural ghost ship of sorts.
Closing his eyes briefly, the Governor tried to remember everything he could about his daughter. When Elizabeth was younger she had been all tongue and cheek, a bit out of control in truth, but then again, Governor Swann and his wife, Victoria, had turned a blind eye to her faults. She had been young, after all, and such sauciness was endearing in youth. Always inquisitive, the young Elizabeth had wreaked a good bit of havoc in their London home. She was into everything and had vanished on several occasions, only to turn up later, sooty-faced and grinning. If it wasn’t one thing it was something else. Elizabeth and Victoria had been so much alike, he remembered, even if Victoria had possessed a better sense of propriety. Mother and daughter would often have verbal sparring matches, laughing as they lashed out with their tongues.
But then Victoria had died. She was struck down by a horrible feverish delirium that had almost stolen Elizabeth from him as well. He remembered feeling torn, unsure of whose bed side he should sit beside longer. He had been with Victoria when she died, mopping her forehead free of sweat. She hadn’t even known that he was there, staring wildly through him, seeing something that didn’t exist. Sobbing, he watched as the light faded from her eyes, dark brown and surprisingly deep. That day he was lost and hollow but deep inside him he knew that he still had a daughter that he must attend to. He would care for her fiercely and see her well.
And he did. Elizabeth’s recovery was slow and for a long time she couldn’t remember who or where she was. But then her memory had come back and she took the death of her mother badly.
Elizabeth hadn’t been the same after that, becoming sullen and prone of fits of sudden anger. She had been so young, only eight at the time, and the two years before they made the crossing to Jamaica had been rough for his daughter. And then on the crossing Elizabeth had met one William Turner.
The change in Elizabeth had been immediate. As soon as the young Mr. Turner was on his feet again, the couple became as thick as thieves and twice as mischievous. The Governor had been surprised to see Elizabeth laughing for the first time he could remember in ages, a grin fixed permanently on her face as she got into all sorts of trouble. Even after they had landed in Jamaica, Elizabeth had a way of disappearing from the manor and finding her way to the black smith’s shop where William was eventually apprenticed.
This had gone on for a while before the Governor had deemed it inappropriate. He had begun to hear talk questioning the honor of his daughter. Will was obviously enamored with Elizabeth and, being two years her senior, very aware that Elizabeth was of the female persuasion. When Elizabeth turned twelve he hired a new, stricter governess for his wayward daughter. Eventually, with painstaking slowness, the governess had managed to beat a sense of propriety into her stubborn head. Elizabeth and Will had stopped seeing each other and Will had finally realized that the two of them weren’t of the same station, with some encouragement from her father, of course. Elizabeth had grown into a beautiful young woman, with as strong of a volition as her mother before her had possessed. She was a brave young thing, courageous enough to face a heathen holding her hostage by gun point and spit insults into his grimy face.
And now?
A single tear escaped his still shut eyelid. Elizabeth had had such a bright future before her. Commodore Norrington, a fine and respectable military man, had even proposed to her. It was a marriage that he would have blessed without hesitation.
He knew in his heart that this wasn’t a rescue mission. It never had been. But he did vow revenge. He would send his men across the globe to catch the fiends that stole his daughter if he had to. No price was too high.
Wrestling with his emotions, Weatherby Swann opened his eyes, blinking at the blinding light thrown off the water. He squinted towards the horizon…
And for a moment didn’t believe what he was seeing. Surely it was a mirage, a fata morgana. His brain was making him see what it wanted to see on this godforsaken stretch of water.
Shaking his head, utterly speechless, Governor Swann closed his eyes and opened them again.
For on the horizon, where nothing rightly should be, was a great plume of smoke.