Date: July 28, 2003.
Length: 500 words.
Challenge: Unfulfilled longing.

There were so many places to lay the blame, Governor Swann thought as he stared at Elizabeth, standing between the Commodore and Sparrow, saying that that was where she belonged.

It would have been easy to place the blame for her actions on Sparrow. Only logical, really, because of the five of them standing on the battlements, it was Sparrow who was the villainous one. Pirating! Impersonating a member of the clergy for his own personal gain! Scandalous.

To lay the blame on the pirate, though, would be to ignore the fact that Elizabeth had spent very little time alone with the man. (Ignoring, of course, the one night they’d spent marooned on that island together, but the Governor liked to pretend that it had never happened. Proper young ladies didn’t get marooned on islands with pirates. It just wasn’t done.)

Also, what time they had spent together had been later, after Elizabeth was well away from Port Royal.

No, it was impossible to blame Sparrow, no matter how easy it would have been. Especially as the Governor watched the man trip off the edge of the cliff, falling down into the ocean, escaping again.

He could have blamed Will, because the boy was the reason that Elizabeth had come into possession of the Aztec gold. He was the reason that Elizabeth had traveled back to la Isla de la Muerta by herself, something that no proper young lady should do.

He was the reason, the Governor was sure, that Elizabeth had taken this foolish step, standing by his side, rather than the side of her fiancé.

To lay the blame on Will, though, would be to ignore the fact that Elizabeth had taken the Aztec coin from the boy without his permission. It would be to ignore the power of true love, because it was with true love that Will and Elizabeth were looking at each other at that very moment.

Then there was her fiancé, the good Commodore, who was making his way towards the couple.

It wasn’t so easy to blame him for Elizabeth’s actions, but the Governor was sure that he could find reason, if he tried. The Commodore had pressured Elizabeth into engagement, perhaps, forcing her to run away?

That excuse sounded weak even in his own mind.

No, if anyone was to blame, he was.

That was the crux of the matter: he was to blame. He’d encouraged her to develop a strong mind, a strong will of her own. He hadn’t listened when people had told him that Port Royal was no place to raise a young girl. He’d said that he could emulate Britain for her, with tutors and maids and fashions, but as he watched Elizabeth and Will, looking so happy together, he could see that it hadn’t been enough.

Now, he wished that he had listened.

Because all he wanted was his little girl back, and that, he knew, was impossible.

And he had no one but himself to blame.