{Fic} Ocean Soul 2/18 | Will/Jack
Ocean Soul
Part 2 of 18
By Clarity Scifiroots
Standard disclaimers apply. This AU plot rules parallel to the first movie but isn’t quite the same. By a fan, for fans.
Rating: Ranges from Teen to Adult/Mature.
Pairing: Jack/Will
Summary: An AU tale that weaves a rather bleak past for one Will Turner. When the young blacksmith apprentice stows away on the Interceptor to get away from abuse, he didn't expect it to be taken over by pirates led by the most famous (or is it infamous?) Jack Sparrow.
Warnings: Sexual harassment, abuse, and recovery from such
Re-edited January 16, 2008
Two
Will was determined to avoid returning to the shop for as long as possible. He could deal with whatever punishment his uncle dealt for being late; he wanted to keep away from Jon as long as he could.
The docks were reasonably busy with ships unloading their wares or restocking before journeying out. There were enough nooks and crannies that he could slip into and hide for a time if anyone came looking for him. He looked longingly on the haul of the Ocean’s Gem, a supply ship that visited every few years along with dozens of others. He had tried once to gain passage, offering a wide variety of services and showing off his slightly developed skills with sea travel. In fact, he’d tried a few times to gain voyage on various ships, but all required that he have a letter from the Governor stating that he was free to leave - and that would require a signature from his “guardian,” which Will hadn’t figured out a way to get around.
Muffling a sigh, he moved on towards what appeared to be a deserted dock. As he neared, he heard voices, disproving his first assumption.
“Li’ ah said, no real ship can outrun her.”
Will’s curiosity piqued as he heard scrambling feet and protesting shouts. He walked slowly towards the commotion and stood in the shadows, studying the scene before him. Two soldiers appeared on board of the Interceptor with their guns raised high towards a curious character standing posed at the ship’s wheel.
The sun’s bright light made it hard for Will to see details of the man from his position, but he could make a few general observations. The stranger was either a drunk or a sailor, the blacksmith decided, for his appearance looked a little the worse for wear and his dark hair, held back by a red scarf and covered by a hat, was roped in dreadlocks. There were trinkets or something of the like in the man’s hair, reflecting sunlight and making his facial features just barely visible to Will. The man’s skin was a deep bronze - a sailor, then - and beneath his eyes were dark strokes of kohl. Yes, definitely a sailor of some sort yet not a respectable one - the outfit was all wrong.
It seemed that during his inspection of the curious man, the two soldiers had become doubtful of their initial reaction and lowered their guns, looking between themselves and the man at the helm.
He couldn’t be sure what it was that first drew his attention away from the trio on deck. High up on the cliffs across the bay, from the direction of the fort, came the sound of someone shouting a familiar name. In a moment he realized that the object just about to hit the water was the perfect size for a person, and he thought he recognized the color of the dress… Elizabeth!
Driven by the sudden jolt of realization, he ran towards the end of the dock, fumbling to undo the buttons of his jacket as he did so. Without pause, he dived into the sea and swam towards the area where she had disappeared. A natural swimmer, he had practiced the sport for many a year prior coming to Port Royale. In his current life he found it to be one of his ways to withdraw from the world and find a semblance of peace.
He took a deep breath before diving down with eyes open against the stinging salt of the ocean, to reach for Elizabeth. Air bubbles trailed up from her parted lips. The sight of her closed eyes scared him. He wrapped one arm tightly about her waist and pulled her along. He made sure her head broke the surface when he took his own gulp of air, but too soon they were under again, the weight of water-logged clothes taking a toll on Will’s swimming abilities.
“Ge’ ‘er out o’ the dress, mate, ‘n it’ll be much easier,” he heard a strange voice remark when he broke the surface again. Through stings of dripping hair over his eyes, he recognized the man as the stranger from the Interceptor. Feeling confused, he didn’t notice the man’s actions until soaking cloth wrapped around one of his arms.
“What are you doing!” he exclaimed, mortified that Elizabeth was being undressed by a strange man.
“Wan’ t’ save ‘er, mate, keep yer peace.”
Will had to admit, it was amazingly easy to bring Elizabeth along with him once the damned dress had sunk to the ocean floor. He reached the dock shortly after the stranger pulled himself out of the water. The two soldiers looked stunned, standing stock still with their eyes wide. The stranger muttered something beneath his breath before hauling the woman from Will’s arms and bringing her up on deck.
“She’s no’ breathin’!” one of the soldier’s exclaimed.
Will’s heart raced in panic and he pulled himself up beside the stranger just as he brought out a knife and cut through a strange, pinkish article of clothing.
Almost immediately Elizabeth gasped for air and choked out water, her eyes fluttering open. Will stepped back and watched with worry. Soon enough her eyes focused and took in her surroundings. Her eyes first went to the stranger, still kneeling beside her, then found her friend. Questions lingered in her gaze, but before she could ask them a thunder of boots broke the otherwise quiet scene.
“Elizabeth! Oh, my dear, are you all right?”
“Elizabeth!”
William ran a hand over his hair, slicking back the strands that had fallen into his face.
“I’m all right, Father.... Someone... saved me, I guess.” Now covered with the Governor’s coat, she turned her confused gaze back to the two wet men. Everyone else followed her stare.
“Don’ look a’ me, mates,” the stranger smirked, “this ‘ere lad jumped in after the lass.”
Governor Swann slowly nodded his head in acknowledgement, too relieved to speak at the moment. The new Commodore, however, managed, “Thank you, Turner. Your actions are to be commended.”
Will nodded almost imperceptivity as he murmured, “Yes, sir.”
“Let’s get you home, Elizabeth…”
The Governor and his daughter left and the soldiers, besides the two on duty, turned to leave as well. Commodore Norrington eyed the stranger distastefully before departing, but not before turning the same up-turned nose in Will’s direction.
Will looked down at himself and realized that he didn’t have many options now that his clothes were soaked. His lips set in a grim line of determination, he retrieved his jacket and made his way back towards the shop, sparing a glance back to see the stranger studying him with consideration, fingers twirling long, braided whiskers in thought.
-----
“Ye goo’ fer no’in son o’ a bitch.” Will automatically moved to avoid the oncoming blow, taking the heavy punch meant for his nose on the jaw instead. He winced at the pain that raced through his muscles, the strike sending jolts of knife-stabbing soreness along his neck muscles and into his shoulder.
“Thar’s work t’ be done an’ ye’re ou’ bein’ lazy. They ough’er hang yer sorry arse.” Will braced himself, but was unable to keep his balance as the momentum of a backhanded slap sent him stumbling towards the forge’s hearth.
Will caught his breath in painful gasps, holding one hand over his left side - something radiated a sharp ache - while the other rested on the warm stones to keep him somewhat upright.
He wasn’t prepared for the next attack. The only warning he had was the sudden wash of heat nearing his body, he turned, eyes wide when his gaze locked on white-hot metal.
His scream startled the dozing donkey in the corner of the shop and people nearby blinked in surprise, wondering where the sound had come from; yet no one came to check.
-----
Under the cover of darkness, a wraith-like figure slipped silently from the doorway beneath the blacksmith’s symbol. His red-rimmed eyes stared blankly ahead. Behind him there was only a drunkard, an old ass, and an unconscious body, bleeding slightly from a strike to the temple.
‘No!’ still rang through his body, as if he’d never stopped shouting. His chest ached and body continued to tremble from his exclamation and sudden reaction to the unwanted attention.
No reason to look back.
The streets remained silent and no one occupied the ones he traversed. An occasional patrolman came into view but he easily slipped into hiding before they saw him. He wouldn’t allow anyone to see him. He had to get away, and he thought he finally knew how.
He had heard mention that supplies he had seen earlier that day were heading towards the docks to stock the Interceptor for her upcoming voyage. The navy was confident enough that they posted no more than two guards at a time unless suspicious. Two were easy enough to dodge. Surely there would be some niche on the ship where he could stay hidden until it was too late for him to be returned to shore.
He would never come back. There was only the faintest sadness in his heart that he would not see Elizabeth again, but she was the only bright point, too little to make him seriously reconsider. Not when the cloth of his shirt stuck to the ugly welt of a burn on his left shoulder. Not when the taste of someone else’s spit still lingered in his mouth.
He left.
-----
TBC
-----
Part 2 of 18
By Clarity Scifiroots
Standard disclaimers apply. This AU plot rules parallel to the first movie but isn’t quite the same. By a fan, for fans.
Rating: Ranges from Teen to Adult/Mature.
Pairing: Jack/Will
Summary: An AU tale that weaves a rather bleak past for one Will Turner. When the young blacksmith apprentice stows away on the Interceptor to get away from abuse, he didn't expect it to be taken over by pirates led by the most famous (or is it infamous?) Jack Sparrow.
Warnings: Sexual harassment, abuse, and recovery from such
Re-edited January 16, 2008
Two
Will was determined to avoid returning to the shop for as long as possible. He could deal with whatever punishment his uncle dealt for being late; he wanted to keep away from Jon as long as he could.
The docks were reasonably busy with ships unloading their wares or restocking before journeying out. There were enough nooks and crannies that he could slip into and hide for a time if anyone came looking for him. He looked longingly on the haul of the Ocean’s Gem, a supply ship that visited every few years along with dozens of others. He had tried once to gain passage, offering a wide variety of services and showing off his slightly developed skills with sea travel. In fact, he’d tried a few times to gain voyage on various ships, but all required that he have a letter from the Governor stating that he was free to leave - and that would require a signature from his “guardian,” which Will hadn’t figured out a way to get around.
Muffling a sigh, he moved on towards what appeared to be a deserted dock. As he neared, he heard voices, disproving his first assumption.
“Li’ ah said, no real ship can outrun her.”
Will’s curiosity piqued as he heard scrambling feet and protesting shouts. He walked slowly towards the commotion and stood in the shadows, studying the scene before him. Two soldiers appeared on board of the Interceptor with their guns raised high towards a curious character standing posed at the ship’s wheel.
The sun’s bright light made it hard for Will to see details of the man from his position, but he could make a few general observations. The stranger was either a drunk or a sailor, the blacksmith decided, for his appearance looked a little the worse for wear and his dark hair, held back by a red scarf and covered by a hat, was roped in dreadlocks. There were trinkets or something of the like in the man’s hair, reflecting sunlight and making his facial features just barely visible to Will. The man’s skin was a deep bronze - a sailor, then - and beneath his eyes were dark strokes of kohl. Yes, definitely a sailor of some sort yet not a respectable one - the outfit was all wrong.
It seemed that during his inspection of the curious man, the two soldiers had become doubtful of their initial reaction and lowered their guns, looking between themselves and the man at the helm.
He couldn’t be sure what it was that first drew his attention away from the trio on deck. High up on the cliffs across the bay, from the direction of the fort, came the sound of someone shouting a familiar name. In a moment he realized that the object just about to hit the water was the perfect size for a person, and he thought he recognized the color of the dress… Elizabeth!
Driven by the sudden jolt of realization, he ran towards the end of the dock, fumbling to undo the buttons of his jacket as he did so. Without pause, he dived into the sea and swam towards the area where she had disappeared. A natural swimmer, he had practiced the sport for many a year prior coming to Port Royale. In his current life he found it to be one of his ways to withdraw from the world and find a semblance of peace.
He took a deep breath before diving down with eyes open against the stinging salt of the ocean, to reach for Elizabeth. Air bubbles trailed up from her parted lips. The sight of her closed eyes scared him. He wrapped one arm tightly about her waist and pulled her along. He made sure her head broke the surface when he took his own gulp of air, but too soon they were under again, the weight of water-logged clothes taking a toll on Will’s swimming abilities.
“Ge’ ‘er out o’ the dress, mate, ‘n it’ll be much easier,” he heard a strange voice remark when he broke the surface again. Through stings of dripping hair over his eyes, he recognized the man as the stranger from the Interceptor. Feeling confused, he didn’t notice the man’s actions until soaking cloth wrapped around one of his arms.
“What are you doing!” he exclaimed, mortified that Elizabeth was being undressed by a strange man.
“Wan’ t’ save ‘er, mate, keep yer peace.”
Will had to admit, it was amazingly easy to bring Elizabeth along with him once the damned dress had sunk to the ocean floor. He reached the dock shortly after the stranger pulled himself out of the water. The two soldiers looked stunned, standing stock still with their eyes wide. The stranger muttered something beneath his breath before hauling the woman from Will’s arms and bringing her up on deck.
“She’s no’ breathin’!” one of the soldier’s exclaimed.
Will’s heart raced in panic and he pulled himself up beside the stranger just as he brought out a knife and cut through a strange, pinkish article of clothing.
Almost immediately Elizabeth gasped for air and choked out water, her eyes fluttering open. Will stepped back and watched with worry. Soon enough her eyes focused and took in her surroundings. Her eyes first went to the stranger, still kneeling beside her, then found her friend. Questions lingered in her gaze, but before she could ask them a thunder of boots broke the otherwise quiet scene.
“Elizabeth! Oh, my dear, are you all right?”
“Elizabeth!”
William ran a hand over his hair, slicking back the strands that had fallen into his face.
“I’m all right, Father.... Someone... saved me, I guess.” Now covered with the Governor’s coat, she turned her confused gaze back to the two wet men. Everyone else followed her stare.
“Don’ look a’ me, mates,” the stranger smirked, “this ‘ere lad jumped in after the lass.”
Governor Swann slowly nodded his head in acknowledgement, too relieved to speak at the moment. The new Commodore, however, managed, “Thank you, Turner. Your actions are to be commended.”
Will nodded almost imperceptivity as he murmured, “Yes, sir.”
“Let’s get you home, Elizabeth…”
The Governor and his daughter left and the soldiers, besides the two on duty, turned to leave as well. Commodore Norrington eyed the stranger distastefully before departing, but not before turning the same up-turned nose in Will’s direction.
Will looked down at himself and realized that he didn’t have many options now that his clothes were soaked. His lips set in a grim line of determination, he retrieved his jacket and made his way back towards the shop, sparing a glance back to see the stranger studying him with consideration, fingers twirling long, braided whiskers in thought.
-----
“Ye goo’ fer no’in son o’ a bitch.” Will automatically moved to avoid the oncoming blow, taking the heavy punch meant for his nose on the jaw instead. He winced at the pain that raced through his muscles, the strike sending jolts of knife-stabbing soreness along his neck muscles and into his shoulder.
“Thar’s work t’ be done an’ ye’re ou’ bein’ lazy. They ough’er hang yer sorry arse.” Will braced himself, but was unable to keep his balance as the momentum of a backhanded slap sent him stumbling towards the forge’s hearth.
Will caught his breath in painful gasps, holding one hand over his left side - something radiated a sharp ache - while the other rested on the warm stones to keep him somewhat upright.
He wasn’t prepared for the next attack. The only warning he had was the sudden wash of heat nearing his body, he turned, eyes wide when his gaze locked on white-hot metal.
His scream startled the dozing donkey in the corner of the shop and people nearby blinked in surprise, wondering where the sound had come from; yet no one came to check.
-----
Under the cover of darkness, a wraith-like figure slipped silently from the doorway beneath the blacksmith’s symbol. His red-rimmed eyes stared blankly ahead. Behind him there was only a drunkard, an old ass, and an unconscious body, bleeding slightly from a strike to the temple.
‘No!’ still rang through his body, as if he’d never stopped shouting. His chest ached and body continued to tremble from his exclamation and sudden reaction to the unwanted attention.
No reason to look back.
The streets remained silent and no one occupied the ones he traversed. An occasional patrolman came into view but he easily slipped into hiding before they saw him. He wouldn’t allow anyone to see him. He had to get away, and he thought he finally knew how.
He had heard mention that supplies he had seen earlier that day were heading towards the docks to stock the Interceptor for her upcoming voyage. The navy was confident enough that they posted no more than two guards at a time unless suspicious. Two were easy enough to dodge. Surely there would be some niche on the ship where he could stay hidden until it was too late for him to be returned to shore.
He would never come back. There was only the faintest sadness in his heart that he would not see Elizabeth again, but she was the only bright point, too little to make him seriously reconsider. Not when the cloth of his shirt stuck to the ugly welt of a burn on his left shoulder. Not when the taste of someone else’s spit still lingered in his mouth.
He left.
-----
TBC
-----