Fandom Freeforall 01/50
Remember, first commenter on this post sets the next fandom.
Title: Sea Salt
Character: Will Turner
Fandom: PotC
Requested by: maeritrae
Disclaimer: Not mine, I do but borrow.
Warnings: Um...if you look at it just right there's implied Jack/Will. Chalk this up to current slash fixation and a dislike of Kiera Knightly's characters. Also tres cliche.
He should be happy. He is happy. Of course he's happy. Everything went just like it was supposed to. He and Jack fought their foul foe, rescued the girl, killed the villian Barbossa and broke the curse.
Now Jack's sailing away into the endless horizon and Will is being rather thoroughly kissed by Elizabeth. Happy ending, right? He certainly thinks so for the rest of the day.
Then night falls and he tramps back to Mr Smith's shop and flops wearily into his straw pallet and closes his eyes. And completely fails to get any sleep. The bed is too broad, too prickly...too stable. He's spent the last two weeks on the sea and his body insists on settling against a rocking that simply isn't there on dry land.
The only sound is of Annabell, the donkey, chomping on hay below and the occaisonal pop of the carefully banked forge-fire. It's too quiet. He finds himself listening for the whispering rush of the waves sliding over each other.
It's nearly dawn before he can slip into uneasy slumber and his dreams are of the white-crested waves and the black sails and hull of the Black Pearl.
The days continue, counting away Will's life in a endless, monotanous sequence that never changes. He starts to spend more time at the docks, listening to the sea. He slowly comes to realise that he isn't happy in Port Royal. He's just not unhappy.
It wasn't a bad life when that was all he knew. But then a long-haired, golden-toothed rogue with a silver tongue brought him out onto the waves and he saw...possibility, excitment, adventure. And he threw it all away because he was too afraid to seize the day.
Now he works himself ragged, trying to wear out mind and body so that when he sleeps, the dreams don't come. But every night, he hears the soft whisper of waves on the edge of hearing.
The sea is a siren and Will knows he can only resist her song so long. She has worn away mountains. She can wait.
"A pirate's life for me..."
Title: Sea Salt
Character: Will Turner
Fandom: PotC
Requested by: maeritrae
Disclaimer: Not mine, I do but borrow.
Warnings: Um...if you look at it just right there's implied Jack/Will. Chalk this up to current slash fixation and a dislike of Kiera Knightly's characters. Also tres cliche.
He should be happy. He is happy. Of course he's happy. Everything went just like it was supposed to. He and Jack fought their foul foe, rescued the girl, killed the villian Barbossa and broke the curse.
Now Jack's sailing away into the endless horizon and Will is being rather thoroughly kissed by Elizabeth. Happy ending, right? He certainly thinks so for the rest of the day.
Then night falls and he tramps back to Mr Smith's shop and flops wearily into his straw pallet and closes his eyes. And completely fails to get any sleep. The bed is too broad, too prickly...too stable. He's spent the last two weeks on the sea and his body insists on settling against a rocking that simply isn't there on dry land.
The only sound is of Annabell, the donkey, chomping on hay below and the occaisonal pop of the carefully banked forge-fire. It's too quiet. He finds himself listening for the whispering rush of the waves sliding over each other.
It's nearly dawn before he can slip into uneasy slumber and his dreams are of the white-crested waves and the black sails and hull of the Black Pearl.
The days continue, counting away Will's life in a endless, monotanous sequence that never changes. He starts to spend more time at the docks, listening to the sea. He slowly comes to realise that he isn't happy in Port Royal. He's just not unhappy.
It wasn't a bad life when that was all he knew. But then a long-haired, golden-toothed rogue with a silver tongue brought him out onto the waves and he saw...possibility, excitment, adventure. And he threw it all away because he was too afraid to seize the day.
Now he works himself ragged, trying to wear out mind and body so that when he sleeps, the dreams don't come. But every night, he hears the soft whisper of waves on the edge of hearing.
The sea is a siren and Will knows he can only resist her song so long. She has worn away mountains. She can wait.
"A pirate's life for me..."