Pirates of the Caribbean fan fiction- A Fruit That Never Withers
Title: A Fruit That Never Withers
Author: ameyao_roinyi
Rating: PG
Pairings: slight Tia Dalma/Will and mentions of Davy Jones/Tia Dalma
Word Count 4060
Warnings: spoilers for DMC, small mentions of rotting corpses. Perhaps a little OOC.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, Disney owns all. Life is cruel.
Summary: Will can't cope with the events at the end of DMC, so Tia Dalma offers him insights into the meaning of love and why sometimes it's better to forgive those who hurt you.
In the east, the first faint blush of morning twilight was blooming across the inky vastness of space, spreading tendrils of pale blue through the clouds, gently splintering the shell of secretive night. For William Turner it was a cursed thing to see. Standing on the porch of Tia Dalma's shack, watching the mist roll off the water below, he wished the night to never end. The thought of facing the new day caused a knot of fear to twist deep into his gut.
The others had long since retired to bed. The stresses of the previous day's horrid events had pushed the men past the point of exhaustion and now only Will remained awake. He slumped wearily against the thick wooden railing of the porch, the hut dark and silent behind him. The surrounding forest was still shrouded in night, the darkness giving what comfort it could to the young man's troubled mind. Soon the sun would rise and bathed in golden light the surreal events of the past day would become blindingly clear, searingly real. Will had been trying his best, the very moment his eyes befell that murderous bastard sinking his rotten teeth into green flesh, to convince himself this was all a dream. Soon he would wake up, safely aboard the Black Pearl, to find nothing amiss. Surely, the ever cunning Captain Jack Sparrow had not been taken, along with his beloved ship, down into the black depths of the sea by a creature so monstrous the very thought of it froze the blood in sailor's veins. The kiss he had witnessed between Jack and his betrothed had been a trick of the light, for any other explanation was unacceptable. He had not seen a dead man resurrected, had not felt the shiver down his spine when a long banished terror cracked it's face into a fiendish smile. All these things had to be the product of a delusional mind, frantic and confused from the terror he had suffered aboard the Flying Dutchman.
He was at a loss. For while he was trying desperately to trick his mind into believing it all a lie, his innate rationality was winning the battle. The sickening truth was that it had been real, every last agonizing second. But the fear that was eating away at him bit by bit as the sky lightened was caused by the fact that he had absolutely no idea what he was going to do next. For the first time in ages Will had no plan or thoughts at all. Fear, disbelief and a hazy numbness filled his head. How was he going to support Elizabeth while in this sate, or for that matter plan the coming journey with Barbossa. He felt utterly lost and worthless.
Absorbed in thought, he failed to hear the creak of the door as it opened, only becoming aware of another's presence when a warm hand came to rest upon his shoulder. Will knew who it was without having to turn around. Tia Dalma. Her scent filled his senses; the sweetness of decaying earth, incense and spices, exotic but familiar at the same time
"You bin out here near on three hours, you gonna come in 'n git some sleep?"
Her voice was gentle, the way it had been the night before when she had spoken to him of his father. He kept his back toward her, not feeling able to face the older woman.
"Has it been that long?" He murmured.
Will sighed in a resigned manner and turned to face Tia Dalma. "Did you convince Elizabeth to get some rest?"
A soft smile spread across her black lips, an impish gleam illuminating onyx eyes. "Eventually. Dat girl got quite the stubborn streak in her. It took a long while to get her to drink the tea I made for her. Good thing it was made to make her eyes heavy, ehh." Tia Dalma's smile grew a little wider, as if thinking on some secret joke. "She's sleep'n good now, pleasant dreams to have as well I hope."
"I hope so too." Will let his gaze leave those smokey eyes as his head lolled down a bit. "This...ordeal, has been quite hard on her. Perhaps more so than on the others."
Tia Dalma's expression had grown serious as she once more caught his gaze. "You know the reason for dat?" She asked.
Will drew away from the older woman, walking listlessly toward the end of the porch. Looking up to the sky above the tops of the ancient cypress trees, he noted that the ever increasing light was painting some of the high clouds pale pinks and oranges. His feelings of dread increased, for soon it would not only be the voodoo priestess asking him about Elizabeth, but everyone else as well. It wasn't fair to ask that of him. Why could she not ask Elizabeth herself? The truth was a shame he did not wish to share with anyone else; he wanted to bury it deep inside himself. To nurture it with bitter resentment until Elizabeth finally noticed his pain through her own and confronted him about it. Why must it always be he that had to bear all the brunt of the pain caused by the mistakes of those who claimed to love him?
"William." Tia Dalma's voice returned to the gentle tone she had greeted him with, only now he fancied he could hear a bit of pity creeping in.
She reached up and laid a hand upon his cheek, drawing his face back down from the heavens to meet her steady gaze. Will was once again taken surprise by the warmth of her flesh, the strength of her wild scent as he breathed it in.
"I already have my suspicions 'bout what be going on in her heart. You don't need ta be ashamed to tell me 'bout it. I promise to you dat you can trust me."
There was something in her eyes, a flicker in their dark depths that spoke of her wisdom, her great knowledge in matters of the heart.
There was a twisting in his breast as his mind played back in vivid detail the scene of Elizabeth and Jack kissing passionately that he had witnessed before the Pearl and it's captain went into the depths. He felt the burn of tears trying to break free and a hitch in his breath that thinking about his fiance's betrayal brought on. If he was going to tell anyone it might as well be Tia Dalma. She seemed like she understood the unique type of pain that a traitorous love could bring.
"I think she's in love with Jack." The silence seemed unbearably heavy to him as he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "I saw the two of them kissing before the Black Pearl was taken by the Kraken. I saw my beloved bride-to-be who I have given my heart and soul to, whom I have risked my life for more than once, kiss another man with a passion that she has never shown me."
Tia Dalma gave a sad little smile and let her hand drop from Will's face. "I thought as much. Jack Sparrow has stolen many a heart from maid and man alike. It be in him blood to bring otha's to ruin. It's his freedom that attracts them to him, for it cause him to burn like a flame. To bad them moths get their wings burned off trying to catch him."
"Freedom..." Will let the word out with a pained whisper as his legs gave way and he slid limply to the filthy and splintered floor of the porch. He closed his eyes and tried to draw in a full breath, tried to calm down. A feather soft touch brushed across his forehead, a trailing moss that grew from the decaying wood of the rail above him. The smell of rotting wood invaded his nostrils and lungs as he tried to pull in a lung-full of air, bringing with it a slight burning sensation. He suddenly felt a pin prick of panic building inside. He needed fresh air and all around him was rot and decay, the constant cycle of death and rebirth. His treacherous mind let a rebel thought surface for a moment. What would Jack smell like rotting away in the belly of the beast? Would he smell sickly sweet and almost clean like the hermit crabs did when peacefully left to their decomposition on the beaches of his home? Or would he smell foul and putrid, his sins and misdeeds bubbling up like a gaseous poison as flesh rotted away from bone? He quickly pushed such thoughts away, disgusted with himself. Was that the kind of man he was? Was he so wicked as to take pleasure from Jack's death simply because he was jealous of Elizabeth's feelings for him?
Tia Dalma had knelt down across from him while Will had been concentrating on regaining his composure. She now regarded him silently, but the look she gave him when he finally opened his eyes once more said more than words could. She seemed to be waiting for him to be the one to speak first. He felt ashamed to be here with a woman he barely knew, bearing his soul to her knowing gaze. For he was sure that she could see right through him; that just by looking him in the eyes she knew all his thoughts and inner secrets. The longer they sat there in silence across from each other, their knees touching, the skirt of her disheveled dress overlapping to cover his legs, while the cloth added to the already unbearable heat of the early morning, the more he felt compelled to speak to her all his most secret thoughts. Will felt waves of heat radiating up his thighs, the heavy, coarse fabric of the woman's skirt causing him to break out into a thick sweat. Will felt sure that she must be dying of the heat herself, but Tia Dalma sat as calm and serene as a windless ocean, as patient as the waves that erode the stone of the shore to create sand.
A bead of sweat dripped down his forehead and fell to the floor only to be immediately absorbed by the aged wood boards. The situation suddenly seemed to be a form of torture. Could it be that she was working some sort of voodoo spell on him? Will did not think her the type to try such a thing unprovoked, but with the way he was feeling something had to be going on. Maybe it was simply that his true desire was to tell someone of his grief. Perhaps it was his own mind playing more tricks on him because he did not want to admit that he needed a confidant.
"I'm beginning to hate the word freedom." The words sounded like the roar of cannon fire to his ears and they hung heavily in the space between him and the mysterious priestess. He realized that she was not going to offer him any help, she was only there to listen. It was up to him to wrench his feelings apart and bring them to the surface.
"I know that you are right about Elizabeth wanting Jack because of his freedom. I think she wants that form of freedom for herself. To do anything, dare everything, go where one pleases when one desires so. I resent that she feels Jack is the only one to give her that freedom. I have not tried to cage her in a gilded prison. I've never once told her that she could not do as she would want. I even taught her how to fight with a sword, which is not training most ladies of her rank would receive. I know she has a most adventurous spirit and I've always tried to honor that part of her. I feel that I have been supportive of her longing to break away from the constraints of the classic feminine ideal." His tone had shifted from beginning to end, the last sentence having been said with a hint of bitterness.
"What is freedom anyway? I think a man a fool if he thinks that the life of a pirate is a free life. There are many things that weigh those men down, that tie them to a common master. They give their very souls away, piece by piece, until there is nothing left of them but an empty husk that feels naught but the most basic and animal cravings of the flesh. I would rather believe that I am the free one. I can lay my head down at night and be free of the memory of the look in the eyes of a women as I make her a widow. Can a man who has committed murder say that? I can eat my daily bread without having to think of the children whose bellies will go empty while mine is full. Can a pirate who has pillaged and stolen from his fellow men say that? I can be free from almost all types of guilt by leading a good and honest life. I do not understand why that is called servitude whilst a life of deceit is called freedom. I have no master that rules my actions. I am my own, my soul is my own. Can Jack Sparrow have claim to say such? I am a good man. So why is it that the woman who professes to love me would wound me so deeply by harboring and acting upon desires for another?"
His voice had gotten stronger by small increments and his anger had followed suit. All the pain that he had felt when he had glanced up to the deck of the Black Pearl during their dangerous flight and seen his beloved in the arms of another bubbled to the surface. Like the waters had rolled and thrashed as the Pearl was sucked down into the depths of hell, Will Turner felt his emotions to be just as tumultuous. It was as if a dam had broken. All the bitterness and sorrow of a lifetime spent giving selflessly of himself whilst receiving not much in return spilled over him like waves. He met Tia Dalma's ebony eyes, expecting to see loathing and disgust reflected in them. Instead he was met with pure compassion and understanding. He knew then that she had tasted the same bitter fruit as he.
To love someone who does not love you back, or to desire someone who finds you lacking, is as bitter and painful as burning gall in ones throat. But to learn that someone you thought loved you, the one person in the world who you longed to give your whole heart to, had lied to you about returning that love which you had held most sacred. That is the bud that blossoms into the fruit of hate. A fruit that will never age or die, nor fade away. A ragged wound that will never heal, for it will always be torn open anew, as long as you have a heart with which to feel the pain. And no pain burns deeper or more malignant than the loss of faith caused by broken trust.
Tia Dalma choose then to break the silence. Reaching into her bodice she pulled upon a silver chain that had been laying loose around her neck. Will watched transfixed as a pendent was revealed. A heart of pure silver, embossed with the image of a face, held tightly in the claws of a crab. Will had seen the image before, many times in fact. It was the image that the music box in the captain's cabin of the Flying Dutchman had bore, the Chest of Davy Jones had also been fitted with it.
"For you see William Turner, you and me, we are the same. I know all 'bout broken hearts 'n shattered promises." she held the pendent out in front of her and gently pressed the center component down; Will heard a faint click. A sweet haunting melody floated out along the warm humid air just as the sun was rising, sending streaks of bright light down through the trees. The melody was the same mournful tune that Will had heard while captive on the Flying Dutchman, the same tune that had lulled Davy Jones to sleep and saved him from certain disaster.
"I once loved a man wit all my heart. A man as faithful as the tides and as wise as them trees. He swore himself to me for time and all seasons. But a siren of the sea stole his spirit away from me, enchanted him unknowingly wit her song. She would have no mortal for a lover, for all her lusts lay wit the sea. So he wasted away in a thrall, having no room left in him heart for me. I got my revenge on him, for I was sick in heart at him who done me wrong. He came to me and said his pain was too great for him to bear. So I helped him cut out him heart and seal it away from the world. I bound him to the sea so he would always be close to his beloved siren. But even then, as master of them deep dark depths he still could not have her. For I made her to be a terrible beast that had no thought of love, no desire but for destruction. So he be cursed to spend an eternity, longing for him love in the sea and him love in the earth...and none can he have."
Will felt tears welling up again in his eyes. He wasn't sure who he was grieving for, Tia Dalma or her lost love. It seemed plain to him that she spoke of Davy Jones and for the first time since he was thrust into the middle of this mess he felt real sympathy for the heartless captain of the Dutchman. But it was the thought of Tia Dalma's sadness that sent the tears rolling down his checks to pool in the corners of his mouth. He tasted salt and felt relieved by it for the first time in weeks
The lilting melody came to a sudden halt and with a another soft click the heart section of the pendent snapped back up. Tia Dalma closed her hand around the silver bauble and pulled her fist close to her chest, laying it upon her heart.
"We the same William Turner, but it would do me awful sorrow to see you follow the path dat that I took. I made revenge wit a spell that can't be reversed and I regret it everyday that I live wit out my love being free. I don't want to see you hold hate in your heart for your Miss Elizabeth. She made a mistake, but don't be condemning her so quick. You go and save Captain Jack from the shores of the underworld, then you see how she be acting wit him. She's not in love wit Jack to be sure, it was just a flash of lust that caught her when she was not ready to fight it. I think she's in love wit you. Have faith in her, she's your true love, right?
"Yes" he replied softly while wiping the traces of his tears from his face with a shirt sleeve.
"I will try to feel no anger for what she did, I will try to forgive her for it, but I don't know what is going to happen when or even if we find Jack. I truly hope I will be able to look past all this." Tia smiled at his words while safely tucking the precious pendent back into her bosom.
"I know it's gonna be hard for you to follow the orders of Barbossa, but he's the only one who been to de ends of the world and back. He's the only one who knows the way there and the way outta there. You must do as he tells you, for he has walked those pale shores himself and knows the rules that govern them. I know you want to be getting to saving your father from the Flying Dutchman, but you need to perform this task first."
Tia Dalma leaned toward Will and tucked a stray lock of his sable brown hair behind an ear and smoothed the rest of his hair down.
"This journey is go'na decide your future for you. I said to you de first time I be laying eyes on you dat you had a touch of destiny 'bout you. This voyage will give you the chance dat you be needing to prove yourself to the other men and to Elizabeth. After this, ain't no body gonna be talking 'bout you without getting misty eyed. You're gonna be a hero William Turner, one of the greatest I ever met. I have faith in you dat you can make good by 'ole Jack Sparrow."
Will rose to his feet and dusted off his clothes, by then there were shafts of bright morning light landing on the porch. The dust danced mystically, but all too briefly in the warm sunlight before drifting off to places unknown. Will leaned down and helped Tia Dalma up, being careful not to step on the pleats of her dress.
"Thank you for having faith that I can succeed in saving Jack. It's nice to know that I have someone who believes in me." Will smiled his first real smile since the Black Pearl went into the depths, taking her shame and secrets with her. He felt as if a huge burden had been lifted from him. Just knowing that Tia Dalma understood him and had faith in him made all the challenges that he would soon face in the days and weeks ahead seem a little less intimidating. She really was an enigma that woman. Will figured a man could spend years knowing her, like Jack had, and still not know even half her secrets.
"I don't have anything I can offer you as payment for your help." he admitted with a hint of shyness.
"It's alright my boy, I dun need nothing too special. I'm glad to help. Although, there is one thing." Tia's eyes lit up with that mischievous fire that Will was beginning to find quite a joy to see. "Anything, just name it." He replied, with a smile forming on his face to match the grin of the voodoo priestess.
Tia Dalma lay her hands on the younger man's chest and sighed. "Well, the kiss of a noble and trustworthy man be worth more than all the gold and precious stones of de earth. For a good man is hard to find, dont'cha know." Will gave her a slightly apprehensive look. "I swear to you dat it will be a simple, chaste kinda kiss." She was already rising on her tiptoes to reach him, flexing her fingers to intertwine them with the fabric of his loose shirt.
Will obediently leaned down to met her and after a momentary hesitation brushed her lips with his. Kissing her was so different than anything he had ever felt before and it gave Will a bit of a shiver despite the growing heat.
He would always have this moment to think of when the road that led to his destiny was cast in shadow. Sharing a sunbathed kiss with an exotic woman wise beyond his understanding. He would forever remember how lovely her skin looked in the morning light, cinnamon and copper and all things warm. Breathing in her intoxicating scent, fresh moist earth and spices; a reminder of home. And most of all, the light and warmth that filled her eyes when they parted.
For when he stands on the edge of a pale shore a world away from the blue waters of his tropical home. Will Turner will remember Tia Dalma's breath against his neck like a summer's breeze and the joy that came with hearing three words whispered with conviction, but softly so that only they two could hear.
"You're my Hero."
Author: ameyao_roinyi
Rating: PG
Pairings: slight Tia Dalma/Will and mentions of Davy Jones/Tia Dalma
Word Count 4060
Warnings: spoilers for DMC, small mentions of rotting corpses. Perhaps a little OOC.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, Disney owns all. Life is cruel.
Summary: Will can't cope with the events at the end of DMC, so Tia Dalma offers him insights into the meaning of love and why sometimes it's better to forgive those who hurt you.
In the east, the first faint blush of morning twilight was blooming across the inky vastness of space, spreading tendrils of pale blue through the clouds, gently splintering the shell of secretive night. For William Turner it was a cursed thing to see. Standing on the porch of Tia Dalma's shack, watching the mist roll off the water below, he wished the night to never end. The thought of facing the new day caused a knot of fear to twist deep into his gut.
The others had long since retired to bed. The stresses of the previous day's horrid events had pushed the men past the point of exhaustion and now only Will remained awake. He slumped wearily against the thick wooden railing of the porch, the hut dark and silent behind him. The surrounding forest was still shrouded in night, the darkness giving what comfort it could to the young man's troubled mind. Soon the sun would rise and bathed in golden light the surreal events of the past day would become blindingly clear, searingly real. Will had been trying his best, the very moment his eyes befell that murderous bastard sinking his rotten teeth into green flesh, to convince himself this was all a dream. Soon he would wake up, safely aboard the Black Pearl, to find nothing amiss. Surely, the ever cunning Captain Jack Sparrow had not been taken, along with his beloved ship, down into the black depths of the sea by a creature so monstrous the very thought of it froze the blood in sailor's veins. The kiss he had witnessed between Jack and his betrothed had been a trick of the light, for any other explanation was unacceptable. He had not seen a dead man resurrected, had not felt the shiver down his spine when a long banished terror cracked it's face into a fiendish smile. All these things had to be the product of a delusional mind, frantic and confused from the terror he had suffered aboard the Flying Dutchman.
He was at a loss. For while he was trying desperately to trick his mind into believing it all a lie, his innate rationality was winning the battle. The sickening truth was that it had been real, every last agonizing second. But the fear that was eating away at him bit by bit as the sky lightened was caused by the fact that he had absolutely no idea what he was going to do next. For the first time in ages Will had no plan or thoughts at all. Fear, disbelief and a hazy numbness filled his head. How was he going to support Elizabeth while in this sate, or for that matter plan the coming journey with Barbossa. He felt utterly lost and worthless.
Absorbed in thought, he failed to hear the creak of the door as it opened, only becoming aware of another's presence when a warm hand came to rest upon his shoulder. Will knew who it was without having to turn around. Tia Dalma. Her scent filled his senses; the sweetness of decaying earth, incense and spices, exotic but familiar at the same time
"You bin out here near on three hours, you gonna come in 'n git some sleep?"
Her voice was gentle, the way it had been the night before when she had spoken to him of his father. He kept his back toward her, not feeling able to face the older woman.
"Has it been that long?" He murmured.
Will sighed in a resigned manner and turned to face Tia Dalma. "Did you convince Elizabeth to get some rest?"
A soft smile spread across her black lips, an impish gleam illuminating onyx eyes. "Eventually. Dat girl got quite the stubborn streak in her. It took a long while to get her to drink the tea I made for her. Good thing it was made to make her eyes heavy, ehh." Tia Dalma's smile grew a little wider, as if thinking on some secret joke. "She's sleep'n good now, pleasant dreams to have as well I hope."
"I hope so too." Will let his gaze leave those smokey eyes as his head lolled down a bit. "This...ordeal, has been quite hard on her. Perhaps more so than on the others."
Tia Dalma's expression had grown serious as she once more caught his gaze. "You know the reason for dat?" She asked.
Will drew away from the older woman, walking listlessly toward the end of the porch. Looking up to the sky above the tops of the ancient cypress trees, he noted that the ever increasing light was painting some of the high clouds pale pinks and oranges. His feelings of dread increased, for soon it would not only be the voodoo priestess asking him about Elizabeth, but everyone else as well. It wasn't fair to ask that of him. Why could she not ask Elizabeth herself? The truth was a shame he did not wish to share with anyone else; he wanted to bury it deep inside himself. To nurture it with bitter resentment until Elizabeth finally noticed his pain through her own and confronted him about it. Why must it always be he that had to bear all the brunt of the pain caused by the mistakes of those who claimed to love him?
"William." Tia Dalma's voice returned to the gentle tone she had greeted him with, only now he fancied he could hear a bit of pity creeping in.
She reached up and laid a hand upon his cheek, drawing his face back down from the heavens to meet her steady gaze. Will was once again taken surprise by the warmth of her flesh, the strength of her wild scent as he breathed it in.
"I already have my suspicions 'bout what be going on in her heart. You don't need ta be ashamed to tell me 'bout it. I promise to you dat you can trust me."
There was something in her eyes, a flicker in their dark depths that spoke of her wisdom, her great knowledge in matters of the heart.
There was a twisting in his breast as his mind played back in vivid detail the scene of Elizabeth and Jack kissing passionately that he had witnessed before the Pearl and it's captain went into the depths. He felt the burn of tears trying to break free and a hitch in his breath that thinking about his fiance's betrayal brought on. If he was going to tell anyone it might as well be Tia Dalma. She seemed like she understood the unique type of pain that a traitorous love could bring.
"I think she's in love with Jack." The silence seemed unbearably heavy to him as he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "I saw the two of them kissing before the Black Pearl was taken by the Kraken. I saw my beloved bride-to-be who I have given my heart and soul to, whom I have risked my life for more than once, kiss another man with a passion that she has never shown me."
Tia Dalma gave a sad little smile and let her hand drop from Will's face. "I thought as much. Jack Sparrow has stolen many a heart from maid and man alike. It be in him blood to bring otha's to ruin. It's his freedom that attracts them to him, for it cause him to burn like a flame. To bad them moths get their wings burned off trying to catch him."
"Freedom..." Will let the word out with a pained whisper as his legs gave way and he slid limply to the filthy and splintered floor of the porch. He closed his eyes and tried to draw in a full breath, tried to calm down. A feather soft touch brushed across his forehead, a trailing moss that grew from the decaying wood of the rail above him. The smell of rotting wood invaded his nostrils and lungs as he tried to pull in a lung-full of air, bringing with it a slight burning sensation. He suddenly felt a pin prick of panic building inside. He needed fresh air and all around him was rot and decay, the constant cycle of death and rebirth. His treacherous mind let a rebel thought surface for a moment. What would Jack smell like rotting away in the belly of the beast? Would he smell sickly sweet and almost clean like the hermit crabs did when peacefully left to their decomposition on the beaches of his home? Or would he smell foul and putrid, his sins and misdeeds bubbling up like a gaseous poison as flesh rotted away from bone? He quickly pushed such thoughts away, disgusted with himself. Was that the kind of man he was? Was he so wicked as to take pleasure from Jack's death simply because he was jealous of Elizabeth's feelings for him?
Tia Dalma had knelt down across from him while Will had been concentrating on regaining his composure. She now regarded him silently, but the look she gave him when he finally opened his eyes once more said more than words could. She seemed to be waiting for him to be the one to speak first. He felt ashamed to be here with a woman he barely knew, bearing his soul to her knowing gaze. For he was sure that she could see right through him; that just by looking him in the eyes she knew all his thoughts and inner secrets. The longer they sat there in silence across from each other, their knees touching, the skirt of her disheveled dress overlapping to cover his legs, while the cloth added to the already unbearable heat of the early morning, the more he felt compelled to speak to her all his most secret thoughts. Will felt waves of heat radiating up his thighs, the heavy, coarse fabric of the woman's skirt causing him to break out into a thick sweat. Will felt sure that she must be dying of the heat herself, but Tia Dalma sat as calm and serene as a windless ocean, as patient as the waves that erode the stone of the shore to create sand.
A bead of sweat dripped down his forehead and fell to the floor only to be immediately absorbed by the aged wood boards. The situation suddenly seemed to be a form of torture. Could it be that she was working some sort of voodoo spell on him? Will did not think her the type to try such a thing unprovoked, but with the way he was feeling something had to be going on. Maybe it was simply that his true desire was to tell someone of his grief. Perhaps it was his own mind playing more tricks on him because he did not want to admit that he needed a confidant.
"I'm beginning to hate the word freedom." The words sounded like the roar of cannon fire to his ears and they hung heavily in the space between him and the mysterious priestess. He realized that she was not going to offer him any help, she was only there to listen. It was up to him to wrench his feelings apart and bring them to the surface.
"I know that you are right about Elizabeth wanting Jack because of his freedom. I think she wants that form of freedom for herself. To do anything, dare everything, go where one pleases when one desires so. I resent that she feels Jack is the only one to give her that freedom. I have not tried to cage her in a gilded prison. I've never once told her that she could not do as she would want. I even taught her how to fight with a sword, which is not training most ladies of her rank would receive. I know she has a most adventurous spirit and I've always tried to honor that part of her. I feel that I have been supportive of her longing to break away from the constraints of the classic feminine ideal." His tone had shifted from beginning to end, the last sentence having been said with a hint of bitterness.
"What is freedom anyway? I think a man a fool if he thinks that the life of a pirate is a free life. There are many things that weigh those men down, that tie them to a common master. They give their very souls away, piece by piece, until there is nothing left of them but an empty husk that feels naught but the most basic and animal cravings of the flesh. I would rather believe that I am the free one. I can lay my head down at night and be free of the memory of the look in the eyes of a women as I make her a widow. Can a man who has committed murder say that? I can eat my daily bread without having to think of the children whose bellies will go empty while mine is full. Can a pirate who has pillaged and stolen from his fellow men say that? I can be free from almost all types of guilt by leading a good and honest life. I do not understand why that is called servitude whilst a life of deceit is called freedom. I have no master that rules my actions. I am my own, my soul is my own. Can Jack Sparrow have claim to say such? I am a good man. So why is it that the woman who professes to love me would wound me so deeply by harboring and acting upon desires for another?"
His voice had gotten stronger by small increments and his anger had followed suit. All the pain that he had felt when he had glanced up to the deck of the Black Pearl during their dangerous flight and seen his beloved in the arms of another bubbled to the surface. Like the waters had rolled and thrashed as the Pearl was sucked down into the depths of hell, Will Turner felt his emotions to be just as tumultuous. It was as if a dam had broken. All the bitterness and sorrow of a lifetime spent giving selflessly of himself whilst receiving not much in return spilled over him like waves. He met Tia Dalma's ebony eyes, expecting to see loathing and disgust reflected in them. Instead he was met with pure compassion and understanding. He knew then that she had tasted the same bitter fruit as he.
To love someone who does not love you back, or to desire someone who finds you lacking, is as bitter and painful as burning gall in ones throat. But to learn that someone you thought loved you, the one person in the world who you longed to give your whole heart to, had lied to you about returning that love which you had held most sacred. That is the bud that blossoms into the fruit of hate. A fruit that will never age or die, nor fade away. A ragged wound that will never heal, for it will always be torn open anew, as long as you have a heart with which to feel the pain. And no pain burns deeper or more malignant than the loss of faith caused by broken trust.
Tia Dalma choose then to break the silence. Reaching into her bodice she pulled upon a silver chain that had been laying loose around her neck. Will watched transfixed as a pendent was revealed. A heart of pure silver, embossed with the image of a face, held tightly in the claws of a crab. Will had seen the image before, many times in fact. It was the image that the music box in the captain's cabin of the Flying Dutchman had bore, the Chest of Davy Jones had also been fitted with it.
"For you see William Turner, you and me, we are the same. I know all 'bout broken hearts 'n shattered promises." she held the pendent out in front of her and gently pressed the center component down; Will heard a faint click. A sweet haunting melody floated out along the warm humid air just as the sun was rising, sending streaks of bright light down through the trees. The melody was the same mournful tune that Will had heard while captive on the Flying Dutchman, the same tune that had lulled Davy Jones to sleep and saved him from certain disaster.
"I once loved a man wit all my heart. A man as faithful as the tides and as wise as them trees. He swore himself to me for time and all seasons. But a siren of the sea stole his spirit away from me, enchanted him unknowingly wit her song. She would have no mortal for a lover, for all her lusts lay wit the sea. So he wasted away in a thrall, having no room left in him heart for me. I got my revenge on him, for I was sick in heart at him who done me wrong. He came to me and said his pain was too great for him to bear. So I helped him cut out him heart and seal it away from the world. I bound him to the sea so he would always be close to his beloved siren. But even then, as master of them deep dark depths he still could not have her. For I made her to be a terrible beast that had no thought of love, no desire but for destruction. So he be cursed to spend an eternity, longing for him love in the sea and him love in the earth...and none can he have."
Will felt tears welling up again in his eyes. He wasn't sure who he was grieving for, Tia Dalma or her lost love. It seemed plain to him that she spoke of Davy Jones and for the first time since he was thrust into the middle of this mess he felt real sympathy for the heartless captain of the Dutchman. But it was the thought of Tia Dalma's sadness that sent the tears rolling down his checks to pool in the corners of his mouth. He tasted salt and felt relieved by it for the first time in weeks
The lilting melody came to a sudden halt and with a another soft click the heart section of the pendent snapped back up. Tia Dalma closed her hand around the silver bauble and pulled her fist close to her chest, laying it upon her heart.
"We the same William Turner, but it would do me awful sorrow to see you follow the path dat that I took. I made revenge wit a spell that can't be reversed and I regret it everyday that I live wit out my love being free. I don't want to see you hold hate in your heart for your Miss Elizabeth. She made a mistake, but don't be condemning her so quick. You go and save Captain Jack from the shores of the underworld, then you see how she be acting wit him. She's not in love wit Jack to be sure, it was just a flash of lust that caught her when she was not ready to fight it. I think she's in love wit you. Have faith in her, she's your true love, right?
"Yes" he replied softly while wiping the traces of his tears from his face with a shirt sleeve.
"I will try to feel no anger for what she did, I will try to forgive her for it, but I don't know what is going to happen when or even if we find Jack. I truly hope I will be able to look past all this." Tia smiled at his words while safely tucking the precious pendent back into her bosom.
"I know it's gonna be hard for you to follow the orders of Barbossa, but he's the only one who been to de ends of the world and back. He's the only one who knows the way there and the way outta there. You must do as he tells you, for he has walked those pale shores himself and knows the rules that govern them. I know you want to be getting to saving your father from the Flying Dutchman, but you need to perform this task first."
Tia Dalma leaned toward Will and tucked a stray lock of his sable brown hair behind an ear and smoothed the rest of his hair down.
"This journey is go'na decide your future for you. I said to you de first time I be laying eyes on you dat you had a touch of destiny 'bout you. This voyage will give you the chance dat you be needing to prove yourself to the other men and to Elizabeth. After this, ain't no body gonna be talking 'bout you without getting misty eyed. You're gonna be a hero William Turner, one of the greatest I ever met. I have faith in you dat you can make good by 'ole Jack Sparrow."
Will rose to his feet and dusted off his clothes, by then there were shafts of bright morning light landing on the porch. The dust danced mystically, but all too briefly in the warm sunlight before drifting off to places unknown. Will leaned down and helped Tia Dalma up, being careful not to step on the pleats of her dress.
"Thank you for having faith that I can succeed in saving Jack. It's nice to know that I have someone who believes in me." Will smiled his first real smile since the Black Pearl went into the depths, taking her shame and secrets with her. He felt as if a huge burden had been lifted from him. Just knowing that Tia Dalma understood him and had faith in him made all the challenges that he would soon face in the days and weeks ahead seem a little less intimidating. She really was an enigma that woman. Will figured a man could spend years knowing her, like Jack had, and still not know even half her secrets.
"I don't have anything I can offer you as payment for your help." he admitted with a hint of shyness.
"It's alright my boy, I dun need nothing too special. I'm glad to help. Although, there is one thing." Tia's eyes lit up with that mischievous fire that Will was beginning to find quite a joy to see. "Anything, just name it." He replied, with a smile forming on his face to match the grin of the voodoo priestess.
Tia Dalma lay her hands on the younger man's chest and sighed. "Well, the kiss of a noble and trustworthy man be worth more than all the gold and precious stones of de earth. For a good man is hard to find, dont'cha know." Will gave her a slightly apprehensive look. "I swear to you dat it will be a simple, chaste kinda kiss." She was already rising on her tiptoes to reach him, flexing her fingers to intertwine them with the fabric of his loose shirt.
Will obediently leaned down to met her and after a momentary hesitation brushed her lips with his. Kissing her was so different than anything he had ever felt before and it gave Will a bit of a shiver despite the growing heat.
He would always have this moment to think of when the road that led to his destiny was cast in shadow. Sharing a sunbathed kiss with an exotic woman wise beyond his understanding. He would forever remember how lovely her skin looked in the morning light, cinnamon and copper and all things warm. Breathing in her intoxicating scent, fresh moist earth and spices; a reminder of home. And most of all, the light and warmth that filled her eyes when they parted.
For when he stands on the edge of a pale shore a world away from the blue waters of his tropical home. Will Turner will remember Tia Dalma's breath against his neck like a summer's breeze and the joy that came with hearing three words whispered with conviction, but softly so that only they two could hear.
"You're my Hero."