Cove of Shadows ━━ Will Turner

𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈 ━━ A Bitter Reunion

PLUNGED SIX FEET UNDER WATER, she had the impression of having returned to Port-Royal, that day when it all had begun. God knew she wouldn't have imagined the rest of the story. She would have passed the chapters with her fingertips, impatient to read the rest. Diligent hands seemed to control her, but also to save her. This is why she found the strength, the desire, to stay. For Will, for everyone she loved. She was going up again, and stuck her head again beyond the atmosphere. It was so good. Like a rebirth, all sensations returned to her bruised body, and she realized an accomplishment: no one had lifted it apart from her. No one would save her the way she could save herself. She was the key.

Despite the urgency of the situation, the potential presence of hostile sea creatures, she couldn't help smiling, watching the sun at its zenith burning the tip of her nose. Admittedly, Will was already far away, but she was sure to find him. She was sure she would pull through.

Not far on the horizon, she saw a small islet, peaceful and probably sparsely populated. Short of breath, she swam until she lost her breath. This effort was tiring but she thought only of the good sides of life now. Live it fully without regrets. The beach's water deflected the sun's great glare into her eyes and she was forced to look away towards and ever growing jungle of vines, trees and darkness. The trees made a canopy of the jungle hid what lied underneath. There was no sound of an insect, bird or reptile, no call of a human voice, only the steady rhythmical lap of the sea.

She noticed crates filled with rum, which Jack would surely have loved.

But first, she landed for a few moments, lighting a fire with branches found without too much difficulty. Finally, all this was not as scary and unpleasant as she would have thought. The only time she was completely alone was at the Port-Royal mansion, where loneliness quickly won over her, wanting to see more.

Here, she was made for her ideal, the phantasmagoria of all her chimerical daydreams, and she was grateful that this thug pushed her – because no one would have done it for her. Watching the fire burn the wood chips, the redemptive flames shone through her brown pupils, sparkling in the flickering light. She took a deep breath, sucking in all the air she could. It was fresh, sweet, so tropical. A delicious scent of hibiscus washed over Asteria's hair, flying in the wind. So many burning details flashed before her eyes; from hyacinths to colourful trees sporting spring tones. How to take it all in, her retina circulating once a second. It was too difficult to discern everything and to be able to remember everything.

She rested for a few moments, out of all this chaos that she had begun to appreciate tenderly. She would never tire of it; the sound of crashing waves against the rock.

But she wasn't so desperate as to procrastinate for hours. She used Will's method in the previous battle, and lit a fire with alcoholic fuel.

"If ever one day the danger crosses you again, give me a sign in the air"

Norrington had promised her this, and she hoped it was all true.

And it worked: a few hours later, in the middle of the night, the Dauntless sailed safely to the lost islet, where, delicately, the Commodore carried Asteria to his quarters.

From his window in Port-Royal, he immediately perceived the signal. He was pretty sure it was her, and he wasn't mistaken. Going to her rescue, it seemed the waves would never be so quick to bring her close. He was so scared, and hated himself for constantly letting her go. What would his father the Governor think?

In the moment, holding her tightly against him, he gently closed the door as he laid the young girl down on her bed, half asleep.

Head nodding, Asteria noticed the change in surroundings very quickly and attempted to open her eyes, raising her sleeping upper body.