For geekmama: Cutlass Turner
Title: Cutlass Turner
Recipient: geekmama
Fandom: PotC
Author: freckles42
Characters or Pairing: Elizabeth, Elizabeth/Will, mentions of Norrington
Rating: G
Warnings: None :)
Summary: 675 words. The world changes, and so does Elizabeth - but some things stay the same.
Notes: I do hope you like this, geekmama! I had originally written something else entirely (in an entirely different fandom!) but this just struck me as right. Happy holidays!
When Elizabeth was twelve, she sailed on a ship far larger than her mind could have allowed, across seas wider than her imagination, to a land beautiful and foreign. On the voyage over, there had been a secret thrill and almost-horror at the sight of the Union Jack spread out across the water like a slick, burnt and waterlogged. And then there had been Will, plucked from a certain death (dehydration, one of the crew had told her, was more likely than drowning) and she was the one entrusted to nurse him back to health. He smelt of salt and saltpeter and his lithe fingers had a surprisingly strong grip. She'd had delicate little bruises the next day, which she covered up easily and never showed her father. Before she fell asleep that night, though, she stroked the little spots, covering them with her own fingers. He had good hands, strong hands, and that's how her father decided to have him apprentice to the blacksmith. Idle hands are the devil's workshop, after all, and Elizabeth knew Will's pirate secret.
When Elizabeth was thirteen, she often stood at her window, looking north over the town. She had found where Will worked and she could pick out the smoke from his forge. She found herself wondering if he thought of her when he worked. She hoped he did. Sometimes, when the trade winds would bring the strong smell of saltwater up from the harbour, mixing with the gunpowder from the fort, her memories would take her back to the bow of the ship. She would see that other form fade into the mist and fingers would clutch at her wrist. Often, when she opened her eyes, she would realise she had left bruises upon her own skin. Many times, while rubbing the marks thoughtfully, she would see a spark from the forge. She would smile and go back to her studies. Those nights, she would dream of adventures on the high seas, a cutlass in her hand and Will at her side.
When Elizabeth was fourteen, she began to notice now-Commander James Norrington. Or rather, she began to notice that he was noticing her. She was not altogether pleased with the attention - his gaze was too intense for her liking, and she did not like the way he seemed to want to get beneath her bodice. He was too old for her, too. Every time her father tried to bring him up in idle conversation, Elizabeth would turn away. Sometimes she would slip out in the evenings and have the coachman drive down into the port town and past the blacksmith's shop. She never told the driver to stop, but she could not stop herself from gazing out the window as they pulled past. Sometimes she would see Will, and that would be enough.
When Elizabeth was fifteen she decided she would help with household duties - well, not really, but if it meant she could get out of the house to something besides a Royal Navy function then all the better. She accompanied the housemaids down to market, ostensibly to oversee their purchases. She could breathe in the rich smells of the busy city centre - spices from outside town, flower stalls, fruits, and the stale smell of mules and drunken sailors. Sometimes she would slip away and into the bookstore on the same street as the smithy. On very lucky days, she would see Will in the street on an errand. If he saw her, then they would pause and speak, and the salt and gunpowder would return to her nose - and now she added the smell of the forge and straw to her secret scents of Will Tuner.
When Elizabeth was eighteen she met her first real pirate.
When Elizabeth was twenty-one the open sea was her lover, as her husband guided the souls of the dead lost at sea. She carried a secret deep within her, and she wondered if their son would know the joy of salt and gunpowder, straw and an iron forge.
Recipient: geekmama
Fandom: PotC
Author: freckles42
Characters or Pairing: Elizabeth, Elizabeth/Will, mentions of Norrington
Rating: G
Warnings: None :)
Summary: 675 words. The world changes, and so does Elizabeth - but some things stay the same.
Notes: I do hope you like this, geekmama! I had originally written something else entirely (in an entirely different fandom!) but this just struck me as right. Happy holidays!
When Elizabeth was twelve, she sailed on a ship far larger than her mind could have allowed, across seas wider than her imagination, to a land beautiful and foreign. On the voyage over, there had been a secret thrill and almost-horror at the sight of the Union Jack spread out across the water like a slick, burnt and waterlogged. And then there had been Will, plucked from a certain death (dehydration, one of the crew had told her, was more likely than drowning) and she was the one entrusted to nurse him back to health. He smelt of salt and saltpeter and his lithe fingers had a surprisingly strong grip. She'd had delicate little bruises the next day, which she covered up easily and never showed her father. Before she fell asleep that night, though, she stroked the little spots, covering them with her own fingers. He had good hands, strong hands, and that's how her father decided to have him apprentice to the blacksmith. Idle hands are the devil's workshop, after all, and Elizabeth knew Will's pirate secret.
When Elizabeth was thirteen, she often stood at her window, looking north over the town. She had found where Will worked and she could pick out the smoke from his forge. She found herself wondering if he thought of her when he worked. She hoped he did. Sometimes, when the trade winds would bring the strong smell of saltwater up from the harbour, mixing with the gunpowder from the fort, her memories would take her back to the bow of the ship. She would see that other form fade into the mist and fingers would clutch at her wrist. Often, when she opened her eyes, she would realise she had left bruises upon her own skin. Many times, while rubbing the marks thoughtfully, she would see a spark from the forge. She would smile and go back to her studies. Those nights, she would dream of adventures on the high seas, a cutlass in her hand and Will at her side.
When Elizabeth was fourteen, she began to notice now-Commander James Norrington. Or rather, she began to notice that he was noticing her. She was not altogether pleased with the attention - his gaze was too intense for her liking, and she did not like the way he seemed to want to get beneath her bodice. He was too old for her, too. Every time her father tried to bring him up in idle conversation, Elizabeth would turn away. Sometimes she would slip out in the evenings and have the coachman drive down into the port town and past the blacksmith's shop. She never told the driver to stop, but she could not stop herself from gazing out the window as they pulled past. Sometimes she would see Will, and that would be enough.
When Elizabeth was fifteen she decided she would help with household duties - well, not really, but if it meant she could get out of the house to something besides a Royal Navy function then all the better. She accompanied the housemaids down to market, ostensibly to oversee their purchases. She could breathe in the rich smells of the busy city centre - spices from outside town, flower stalls, fruits, and the stale smell of mules and drunken sailors. Sometimes she would slip away and into the bookstore on the same street as the smithy. On very lucky days, she would see Will in the street on an errand. If he saw her, then they would pause and speak, and the salt and gunpowder would return to her nose - and now she added the smell of the forge and straw to her secret scents of Will Tuner.
When Elizabeth was eighteen she met her first real pirate.
When Elizabeth was twenty-one the open sea was her lover, as her husband guided the souls of the dead lost at sea. She carried a secret deep within her, and she wondered if their son would know the joy of salt and gunpowder, straw and an iron forge.