(no subject)
TITLE: Seven Deadly Sins (GREED)
PAIRING: Jack and Will interaction, mentions of both J/E and W/E
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: Fifth part in the Seven Deadly Sins series, it looks like I may actually finish something. Anyhow, this is, ah, something that came to me because I listen to the Decemberists too much, and the story of the crane wife just worked out sort of perfectly. Though it's technically a stand-alone, parts of it can be attributed to this young! W/E drabble I wrote in a different time and username.
I-III & IV.
V.
(avarice)
GREED
"If, by chance, you find yourself taking some sort of issue with my presence, now would be an excellent time to say something."
It's the sort of long winded slur that identifies it's speaker before Will even looks up, eyes narrowed in the direction of fluttering fingers, and the unsteady shadow looming in his privacy. Jack only grins, it hovers somewhere between wicked, and nervous; gold flecks catch moonlight. The boy says nothing. The pirate takes that as an invitation to sit.
"I thought not."
He starts to push a bottle into William's hand, but stops, seeing that there is already one there. He nods, slowly; he is only half of a two part conversation, the other, is silent.
"I see you've beaten me to the punch, then." There's a pause, that is either for effect, or to allow the other to respond, "Well done."
It is the first time in awhile there've been words, and not swords.
Will takes a breath, and then a drink, and then another breath.
"You could never make her happy, you know." This isn't meant to be a question.
Jack chuckles slightly, trying, all in the space of seconds, to chose from a myriad of possible responses, "And you believe you can?" there was also, "actually, you'd be very surprised at just how happy I've made her, already," but, he did have some tact. "Shocked, even."
The boy says nothing.
The pirate takes that as a "no".
"There's a story, picked up from this drunk old bugger in Japan, about this poor bloke who finds a crane outside his doorstep, wounded by an arrow," he stops to take a swig, and then begins to tap his fingers against the wooden deck they were sitting on, "anyhow, he patches the thing up, and sends it on it's way, and then one night, a beautiful young woman appears at his door, and he falls madly in love with her."
Will rolls his eyes, entirely sure he doesn't like where this is going.
"They, in the grand and obvious tradition of these tales, get married, but the Japanese are not keen on the happily ever after notion, and so the story goes on." He stops tapping. "So, now our newlyweds must begin to think of the more, ah, practical aspects of married life, and this is made very difficult by our hero's status as 'poor bloke', so our heroine, we'll call her 'Smelizabeth'," if looks could kill, Jack'd be dead a second time, "what?" He raises is hands in faux surrender, "So, Smeli---his wife says that she can make a magic fishing net, catch more fish than anyone else, and bein' that our poverty stricken Romeo is a fisherman, that's a useful thing. The only two things she asks are: that he only expect her to do it the one time, and that he doesn't watch her as she spins."
"I'm failing to see your poin--"
"I'm gettin' to it, now settle down." He sighs heavily, and presses a hand to his forehead, trying to remember his place, "Right, so, reasonable enough request, yeah?" Will shrugs, "Well, one night, years down the line, once this man has already forced this task upon his wife time and time again, he can no longer bear his curiosity, and goes into the room where she is, and he sees the crane, his wife, plucking out her own feathers to weave them into the loom, and when she sees him, she flies away."
There's a beat.
The boy says nothing.
"Point is, William, some women, some people, aren't meant to be caught. They're like birds, or, bird people, or ... something," he makes a face, as though he actually saw the absurdity of his statement, ".... some people, you can't cage them, no matter how much you'd like to, and the only up I've got on you, lad, is that I know enough to know that." He breathes, finally, and shakes his head, "I know to meet her where she lives."
There's a beat.
"That, and I'm not a eunuch."
This would have been met with a punch, if Will had not been lost to thought since the previous comment. If a thousand memories had not been pouring through his conscious. Elizabeth aged thirteen, with the beaten up old pirate book, with pamphlets, and a pillow case wrapped about her head; with a worn out artist's rendition of the man who'd just told him this story. He would have punched him, if he had not, all at once, come to the sickening realization that, under it all, she had loved Jack first.
Even before she'd met him.
And he'd spent a lifetime chasing a bird.
But the pirate is oblivious to the epiphany, though not to the worried look that crosses his companion's face. He clears his throat, and raises his bottle, an attempt to lift spirits, and change subjects, "Take what you can."
And though Will knows his line, he replies, "Even if you've no right to."
He is not sure whether this is bitterness directed at Jack, or grim commentary on himself.
PAIRING: Jack and Will interaction, mentions of both J/E and W/E
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: Fifth part in the Seven Deadly Sins series, it looks like I may actually finish something. Anyhow, this is, ah, something that came to me because I listen to the Decemberists too much, and the story of the crane wife just worked out sort of perfectly. Though it's technically a stand-alone, parts of it can be attributed to this young! W/E drabble I wrote in a different time and username.
I-III & IV.
V.
(avarice)
GREED
"If, by chance, you find yourself taking some sort of issue with my presence, now would be an excellent time to say something."
It's the sort of long winded slur that identifies it's speaker before Will even looks up, eyes narrowed in the direction of fluttering fingers, and the unsteady shadow looming in his privacy. Jack only grins, it hovers somewhere between wicked, and nervous; gold flecks catch moonlight. The boy says nothing. The pirate takes that as an invitation to sit.
"I thought not."
He starts to push a bottle into William's hand, but stops, seeing that there is already one there. He nods, slowly; he is only half of a two part conversation, the other, is silent.
"I see you've beaten me to the punch, then." There's a pause, that is either for effect, or to allow the other to respond, "Well done."
It is the first time in awhile there've been words, and not swords.
Will takes a breath, and then a drink, and then another breath.
"You could never make her happy, you know." This isn't meant to be a question.
Jack chuckles slightly, trying, all in the space of seconds, to chose from a myriad of possible responses, "And you believe you can?" there was also, "actually, you'd be very surprised at just how happy I've made her, already," but, he did have some tact. "Shocked, even."
The boy says nothing.
The pirate takes that as a "no".
"There's a story, picked up from this drunk old bugger in Japan, about this poor bloke who finds a crane outside his doorstep, wounded by an arrow," he stops to take a swig, and then begins to tap his fingers against the wooden deck they were sitting on, "anyhow, he patches the thing up, and sends it on it's way, and then one night, a beautiful young woman appears at his door, and he falls madly in love with her."
Will rolls his eyes, entirely sure he doesn't like where this is going.
"They, in the grand and obvious tradition of these tales, get married, but the Japanese are not keen on the happily ever after notion, and so the story goes on." He stops tapping. "So, now our newlyweds must begin to think of the more, ah, practical aspects of married life, and this is made very difficult by our hero's status as 'poor bloke', so our heroine, we'll call her 'Smelizabeth'," if looks could kill, Jack'd be dead a second time, "what?" He raises is hands in faux surrender, "So, Smeli---his wife says that she can make a magic fishing net, catch more fish than anyone else, and bein' that our poverty stricken Romeo is a fisherman, that's a useful thing. The only two things she asks are: that he only expect her to do it the one time, and that he doesn't watch her as she spins."
"I'm failing to see your poin--"
"I'm gettin' to it, now settle down." He sighs heavily, and presses a hand to his forehead, trying to remember his place, "Right, so, reasonable enough request, yeah?" Will shrugs, "Well, one night, years down the line, once this man has already forced this task upon his wife time and time again, he can no longer bear his curiosity, and goes into the room where she is, and he sees the crane, his wife, plucking out her own feathers to weave them into the loom, and when she sees him, she flies away."
There's a beat.
The boy says nothing.
"Point is, William, some women, some people, aren't meant to be caught. They're like birds, or, bird people, or ... something," he makes a face, as though he actually saw the absurdity of his statement, ".... some people, you can't cage them, no matter how much you'd like to, and the only up I've got on you, lad, is that I know enough to know that." He breathes, finally, and shakes his head, "I know to meet her where she lives."
There's a beat.
"That, and I'm not a eunuch."
This would have been met with a punch, if Will had not been lost to thought since the previous comment. If a thousand memories had not been pouring through his conscious. Elizabeth aged thirteen, with the beaten up old pirate book, with pamphlets, and a pillow case wrapped about her head; with a worn out artist's rendition of the man who'd just told him this story. He would have punched him, if he had not, all at once, come to the sickening realization that, under it all, she had loved Jack first.
Even before she'd met him.
And he'd spent a lifetime chasing a bird.
But the pirate is oblivious to the epiphany, though not to the worried look that crosses his companion's face. He clears his throat, and raises his bottle, an attempt to lift spirits, and change subjects, "Take what you can."
And though Will knows his line, he replies, "Even if you've no right to."
He is not sure whether this is bitterness directed at Jack, or grim commentary on himself.