Pirates fic: it takes an ocean not to break; part one
Pairings: Will/Elizabeth, Jack/Elizabeth
Rating: PG-13
Length: 208
Status: WIP
Notes: Written for djarum99 for help_japan. Sorry it's been such a long wait!
it takes an ocean not to break
The Dutchman vanishes in a flare of green light, ethereal and otherworldly, gone in the space between heartbeats. The dark shadow of the Pearl takes longer to disappear, slipping out of sight where the sea meets the sky. In the end they are both gone, and Elizabeth is left staring at an empty horizon.
Standing alone atop the cliff, her bones feel impossibly light, bird-hollow, as though she’ll blow away on the wind. It knifes through her, gusting cold and sharp, and she shivers.
She flew once before, face pressed tight against Jack’s chest as the wind bore them away from the drowning Dutchman. But Jack is gone, and she has no wings. Only a chest, all her love and her longing tucked away inside it.
It is an anchor in her arms, a heavy, beating weight that shackles her to this small island. She has borne it less than a day and already it seems an impossible burden. She cannot imagine a lifetime on this desolate spit of land - endless years of waiting, growing old and bitter - and finds she does not want to.
For a wild moment, she leans into the wind, and hopes.
She does not blow away.
It is the first of many disappointments.
it takes an ocean not to break; part two
Rating: PG-13
Length: 208
Status: WIP
Notes: Written for djarum99 for help_japan. Sorry it's been such a long wait!
it takes an ocean not to break
The Dutchman vanishes in a flare of green light, ethereal and otherworldly, gone in the space between heartbeats. The dark shadow of the Pearl takes longer to disappear, slipping out of sight where the sea meets the sky. In the end they are both gone, and Elizabeth is left staring at an empty horizon.
Standing alone atop the cliff, her bones feel impossibly light, bird-hollow, as though she’ll blow away on the wind. It knifes through her, gusting cold and sharp, and she shivers.
She flew once before, face pressed tight against Jack’s chest as the wind bore them away from the drowning Dutchman. But Jack is gone, and she has no wings. Only a chest, all her love and her longing tucked away inside it.
It is an anchor in her arms, a heavy, beating weight that shackles her to this small island. She has borne it less than a day and already it seems an impossible burden. She cannot imagine a lifetime on this desolate spit of land - endless years of waiting, growing old and bitter - and finds she does not want to.
For a wild moment, she leans into the wind, and hopes.
She does not blow away.
It is the first of many disappointments.
it takes an ocean not to break; part two