in which the pirates of the carribean invite you to join them on the high seas.
"there is nothing that can console me but my jolly sailor bold."
XREADER
2017 - 2020
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This was the last image you imagined to see as you ran around Port William looting and stealing whatever you could get ahold of. She stood in her finest dress which made your trousers and shirt look like a peasant's, her hair fell in perfect ringlets framing her made up face. Yours had rattails falling amongst other things and smears of ashes and blood on your cheeks and forehead. She looked like an angelic dream to you. She should have seen you as a nightmare, but this is Elizabeth Swann, and nothing can stop her.
She blocked the doorway to the manor house, you expected her to move as you approached but she held her ground so unexpectedly that when you stopped you almost disrupted the hair on her head.
"I would move if I were you." She shouted above the roar of the chaos around her which seemed to seamlessly avoid her. You smelt her perfume, it was floral and you tried not to let it go to your head. She smelt the woodsmoke on you and tried to do the same.
"I should be saying that to -" You didn't get to finish your sentence before the building behind you exploded. Your vision was consumed by the orange and white flash that burned your eyes but the only thing that really stayed in your mind was the way Elizabeth Swann smiled at you as it lit up her face and smile.
"No, I think I was right." She told you quickly before gathering up the folds of her dress and beginning to run past you. Both of your arms brushed each other and your quick reflexes paid off as you managed to wrap your hand around her forearm and pull her back to you.
"Hasn't anybody ever told you to speak nicely to pirates?" You question her, you had hoped to scare her a little but the way your glance lingered on all her features gave you away.
"Hasn't anybody ever told you to treat a lady with respect?" Your grip was loose and she abused that fact by pulling herself free. She wore a mask of scorn on her face and small lines developed on her forehead as she began to walk backwards away from you.
You made no attempt to follow her except to shout parting words. She seemed like a fleeting dream, one that life threatened to let you forget in the morning. But your mind is stronger, you memorised everything about her and told her, "Trust me, I treat ladies very nicely."
