Eight Years Later: . . . and then her eyes snap open again, startled wide with fear. The Governer's Mansion, Elizabeth's bedroom. But this is no longer twelve-year-old Elizabeth standing on the stern of the Dauntless; this is twenty-year-old Elizabeth, lying in bed in the dark. She remains motionless (were the images we just saw a nightmare, or a jumbled childhood memory?)
Elizabeth slowly looks as far out the corner of her eyes as possible without moving. Might there be someone in the room with her, looming over her? She turns, ready for anything. She is alone. Elizabeth sits up, turns up the flame on an oil lamp besides the canopied bed. She carries the lamp across the room to a dressing table, sits down.
She pulls one of the small drawers all the way out, reaches into a space beneath it and removes the medallion. She has kept it all this time. It has not lost its luster or its sense of menace. She place the medallion back in the drawer.
A booming knock on the door, Elizabeth jumps up, startled knocking over her chair. It's her father. She puts the medallion on, throws on a dressing gown as Swann enters, carrying a large box. A uniformed maid,
Estrella, follows.
Estrella pulls back the heavy curtains, revealing: Beneath a blue sky lies the bucolic town of Port Royal, built on a natural harbor. On a bluff at the mouth of the harbor stands Fort Charles, its stone parapets lined with
cannon. Weatherby presents her a gift.
He opens the boxes, and displays for her a gorgeous velvet dress. She lets out an admiring gasp. Elizabeth happily takes it, disappears behind a screened-off dressing area. Estrella follows, carrying the box.
Weatherby wants her to wear it for Norrington's ceremony today, his promotion to Commodore. Elizabeth peeks around the screen. Behind the screen, Elizabeth gasps. She holds her hair and the medallion (still around her neck) out of the way as the maid cinches her into a corset over her slip.
Estrella has her foot in Elizabeth's back as she pulls the laces tight. Elizabeth can barely breath it's so tight. Estrella is finished. Elizabeth takes a breath and winces. A butler appears in the doorway of the room announcing a caller is her for him.
The Mansion's Foyer: The caller, dressed in rough clothing, stands in the foyer, looking very out of place, and knowing it. He holds a long presentation case. He polishes the toes of his boots on the back of his calves, but it doesn't help. The caller turns, it is Will Turner. Handsome, with a watchful demeanor that gives him weight beyond his years.
He has brought Weatherby's order. Swann hurries to him, opens the case. Inside is a beautiful dress sword and scabbard. Swann takes it out reverently. Turner takes the sword from Swann, and balances it on one finger at the point where the blade meets the guard showing it's perfectly balanced.
Weatherby is impressed and tells Will to pass his compliments on to his master. Will's face falls. Clearly, the work is his, and he is proud of it. With practiced ease, he flips the sword around, catches it by the hilt and returns it to the case. Will bows slightly and complies.
He stops speaking abruptly, staring past Swann. Elizabeth stands on the stairs. Granted, the dress may be painful to wear, but holy smokes! Will tries to speak, but can't. He gives up, smiles to himself, and simply nods emphatically. She greets Will as her hand goes to the chain around her throat (the medallion is hidden in the bodice of her dress).
She tries to talk warmly with Will, but he puts on a formal front to appease Weatherby. Elizabeth is disappointed and a little hurt by his response. Swann takes the case from Will, opens the door for Elizabeth. Elizabeth straightens her back, gathers her skirts and strides past Will. She gives him a cold goodbye.
Swann follows Elizabeth out the door. He watches as she is helped aboard a carriage by the driver. In the carriage, Swann glowers at his daughter. He lectures her about demonstrating a bit more decorum in front of Commodore Norrington. It is only through Norrington's efforts that Port Royal has become at all civilized.
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