Summary: "My powerful monarch, I once again must apologize for a late letter. Life is getting so much harder out here than it already was." A series of letters between Elizabeth and Jack over the span of ten years. Post AWE. Willabeth, hints of Sparrabeth.

Prompt: Create a piece of writing that shows a series of letters/emails between two characters.

A/N: Written for school.

As Time Goes By

September, 1729

To the female King of pirates,

It has been quite some time since we spoke, don't you agree? Though I must admit, I'm not sure if this letter will reach you. Sent it off with some merchant to the island where your husband left you some months ago. I can't believe it's been that long.

It feels like the battle was yesterday. I can still remember that maelstrom as clear as if it had been. I can still remember helping Will stab the heart, as if it were a mere moment ago. But quite a bit has happened since then.

I recently regained the Black Pearl from Barbossa yet again, as he stole it on our first trip to Tortuga. I felt he'd try it, so I'd stolen Sao Feng's charts before. I wish I could've seen the look on his face when he realized they were gone. He'd left me with Gibbs, though, so that's a plus I reckon. Now Barbossa sits upon the island he once marooned you and I on. A taste of his own work is the least he deserves.

Ah, are those the cannons of a navy ship I hear? I must go. It seems there is a battle upon us.

Until next time, Miss Swann,

J.S.

December, 1729

Dear Jack,

I am glad to hear you're still alive and giving the Royal Navy something to worry about. Apparently defeating them at the battle wasn't enough to inform them of who controls the seas now.

I'm happy to inform you that your letter reached me just in time. I'm taking a ship back to Port Royal, to go through what is left of my father's belongings. It seems some pirates have stolen some of them. I would make you tell me it wasn't you, but you never tell the truth when it comes to that sort of thing.

Will left me with child after his last day ashore. So it is best that I stay in Port Royal for the coming years. I want my son or daughter to have a decent life. I'll tell them of our adventures aboard the Black Pearl, of Will, and of you. But I'll tell them the truth, not the legends.

I'm glad to hear you are in possession of the Pearl, for that ship is used for the wrong purposes in Barbossa's hands. Do you think he'll get off the island?

I write this letter to the Faithful Bride tavern on Tortuga, as it's impossible to track a ship so as to send letters directly to it. Thank the tavernkeeper for holding the letter for you. Maybe spare him some coins if you have enough.

I remain your King, as always,

Elizabeth Turner

April, 1730

My ever growing Majesty,

We defeated the navy, once again I must add, during our little battle I last spoke of. It was at the cost of a few men and a finger on my part, regrettably. At least it wasn't a thumb. Then I'd be writing to you with my left hand, and I'm not sure that'd turn out well.

I will neither confirm nor deny that I stole from your father's house, though I will say that the Pearl has a heavy load of goods from another ship we plundered. It should keep the crew happy for quite some time, and maybe allow for some better quality food aboard the ship. Possibly a cat to keep the mice level in the galley and hold lower, as much as I hate the beasties.

I wish you the best of luck with raising the whelp's child, for the child's parents are both bold and, on occasion, rash. It's undoubtful that the kid'll be the same. Have you thought of any names? May I suggest my own shall it be a lad? You don't want another William, for you'll be able to hear the air whoosh as many heads turn at the call of that name during supper.

Unfortunately, Barbossa did escape the island. However, he has found another ship other than the Pearl and seems content with it for the time being.

Your finest captain, despite having a finger less,

Captain Jack Sparrow

November, 1730

Dear Captain Sparrow,

In February, I gave birth to a son. As much as you wish I had, I did not name him after you. I named him Weatherby James, after my father and James Norrington. I owed the admiral something, if it wasn't my love, for he did die for me, to help me escape the Dutchman and get the Shipwreck Cove. No ill feelings, of course.

Weatherby has Will's eyes and hair. I see his father in him every time I look at him. It hurts. But I do my best to care for him despite that. It takes almost all of my time. I get little to no sleep. I never thought that it would be this hard to take care of an infant.

Sometimes, I take him down to the shore and sit there with him, letting the waves lap at our toes. He likes it. I can practically see the pirate in his blood. I fear one day, when he is older, that the sea will call to him and he may never return. I don't want him to die at sea, like his father and grandfather before him.

I imagine he'll look like Will when he's older. I hope that I do not get Alzheimer's, for I fear I'll call him by his father's name.

It's a shame that you lost your finger, but it'd be worse if you could no longer write to me. Your letters are the highlight of my days. They remind me of when we would sail the seas, galavanting after the heart of Davy Jones, or after Barbossa.

Tell me of the sea. I miss it.

A mother, but a pirate all the same,

Elizabeth

June, 1731

To the King that'll make a wonderful mother,

I apologize for not writing sooner. Had a nasty fight a couple months ago and was left in a coma for quite some time. I'm still recovering, for my head's a little fuzzy and everything feels out of proportion. Gibbs tells me I split my head. Mighty glad I was unconscious for the last couple months, I can't imagine the pain I would have felt the weeks after the incident.

I must congratulate you on the young man that is Weatherby Turner. Try not to worry too much about him, I'm sure he'll turn out just fine. He must be nigh a year old now. I'd send a carving of the Pearl if I wasn't worried of accidentally cutting my thumb off in this poor state. I've lost one finger too many already.

The sea is as blue as ever. It's been calm ever since I awoke. I can still feel the faint touch of freedom in the wind. But it's fading. I fear the navy and East India Trading Company are taking over. Gibbs tells me we've encountered quite a few navy ships when I was out. But the Pearl will always prevail so long as I have breath in my chest.

I might find a protected cove near Port Royal and stop by to meet that lad of yours. It's been some time since we've talked face to face. I find I actually miss Will and yourself.

Sending what little love the sea has for us pirates,

J. Sparrow

August, 1737

To my lovely King,

It has been quite some time since either of us has written to the other, eh? How have the two of you been these last few years? What is Weatherby like, now that he's older?

It was nice to see you again those three years ago. I look forward to your next letter and even the next time we meet.

Sending my best regards,

Jack

January, 1738

Dear Jack,

It is so good to hear of you again. I miss your handwriting as much as your voice.

Weatherby turns eight next month. I cannot believe how much he has grown. He looks so much like Will already. He speaks fondly of "Uncle Jack" and looks forward to meeting you again, as he does not remember much of your last visit.

He has few friends at school, but he has taken a liking to literature. I feel he may become an author one day, something I shall be proud of.

He still enjoys going down to the shore with me and letting the water lap at our feet. He says one day that he'd like to sail aboard a ship like the Pearl. He looks up to you so much. You're almost a father to him.

Your beloved King,

Elizabeth

October, 1738

My powerful monarch,

I once again must apologize for a late letter. Life is getting so much harder out here than it already was. We lost Gibbs in battle a few months ago and I've had to make Cotton first mate.. It's unfortunate that his parrot was also struck down by a cannonball recently.

The storms have been more frequent as well. Calypso's chosen quite the time to release her anger. I was nearly crushed by a mast last week. The Pearl is getting quite old now. I fear her days are numbered. We just can't keep up with repairs.

I am glad to hear how much Weatherby has grown. It brings joy to what is currently miserable sea life. He's going to be a good man when he's older.

I met Will a month back. He's doing a fine job captaining the Dutchman and ferrying souls. Gibbs is in good hands with him, and I'm glad. I showed him your letters. He's relieved to hear that you've kept well and is looking forward to meeting his son in less than two years. He misses you.

Given recent events, I am not sure if I will be alive to read your next letter, much less stop by. I'll try to stay alive, I promise. But I won't promise that I will be alive.

Always missing you and your son,

Captain Sparrow

February, 1739

Dear Jack,

I fear for your life. If things are as tough as you say, you need to stay away from the seas. Though I know you never would anyway. Please stay safe. I don't know what I would do without your letters.

Today marks Weatherby's ninth birthday. I showed him part of your letter, about him being a fine man. He still wishes to meet you again, but I fear that won't happen given the circumstances you're in.

Will's one day is in about a month. I cannot wait to see him. I wonder what he'll think of Weatherby, and what Weatherby'll think of him.

I also must say that I'm sorry to hear of Gibbs. I've known him since I was young, when I first came to Port Royal. I was always fond of him. I hope Cotton is fairing well as first mate.

Sending prayers of your safety,

Elizabeth

July, 1739

My dearly beloved Elizabeth,

I regret to inform you that Jack and his crew are dead. I arrived to ferry his soul just two days ago. The Pearl had been ambushed, it seemed, and failed to fend off the attack. Jack personally fell to several gunshots fired from their attackers. I'm sorry to have to tell you this.

Looking forward to 1749, when we meet again,

Captain Will Turner of the Flying Dutchman