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Secret Santa Fic: Christmas at Sea
Title: Christmas at Sea
Rating: PG
Pairings: Canon with a bit of J/A hinting.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Written for ErinRua, who wanted Jack and Will at sea and loving it. Merry Christmas, Captain!
Feedback: Always appreciated.
Christmas at Sea
She was a live thing under his hands, straining forward as though she meant to take flight like a gull off the sea.
Will Turner gripped the wheel of the Black Pearl, and felt his heart fill like a sail.
So this was what Jack Sparrow meant when he said freedom.
* * * * *
As night crept over the wide sky and the stars kindled above the Pearl, lanterns sprang to life along the length of her deck. Pipes and fiddles were produced, dancing commenced, and the rum flowed freely from a barrel that Jack had ordered rolled up on deck. Presently the Captain himself came astern, followed by Anamaria.
"Come, lad," Jack said. "Ana here'll take the helm for awhile."
Anamaria stepped forward and gave Will a quick nod, placing a firm hand on the wheel. After a moment, Will released it, feeling oddly reluctant.
"Go on, now," Ana said. "Your own lady's been waitin' to dance with you. It's a hard fate for a woman to find herself jealous of a ship, you know." She shot a pointed glance at Jack, who seemed determined not to notice it, Will thought. He smiled to himself, and went in search of his wife.
* * * * *
"Happy Christmas, Will." Elizabeth stood on tiptoes to kiss him very thoroughly.
"I'd forgotten," Will said, when he could speak again. "The days flow together on board ship, don't they....Is it really Christmas?"
"Our first at sea," she affirmed, her eyes sparkling, and pulled him towards the knot of dancers.
When they had whirled across the boards to Elizabeth's satisfaction, Will leaned against the rail, somewhat dizzy, watching her spin laughing in the center of the impromptu dance floor with Gibbs in some spirited Irish jig.
Jack materialized beside him, pressing a large mug of rum into his hand. "Well, young Will? What say you?" The Captain's eyes glinted in the lantern-light as he lifted his own glass. "To a pirate's life, eh?"
"To a pirate's life," Will answered, and chased the burn of the liquor with a deep breath of sea air. Beneath their feet, the Black Pearl quivered and leapt forward as the Christmas wind filled her sails. Will flexed his hands, feeling the life and power of her still lingering there, and looked back involuntarily towards the helm; Ana caught his gaze, and answered it with a crooked half-smile, as if she knew the bearing of his thoughts.
He was beginning to understand why Jack had risked and lost so much to get her back, had spent ten years in pursuit of a lady made of wood and canvas and black magic.
Jack's hand fell on his shoulder, startling him.
"Bill would've been right proud, lad," he said, low; Will turned in time to see the pirate tip his cup of rum over the rail, pouring the contents into the foam that swirled in their wake.
"I think he would have," Will said, equally softly, and poured out his cup as Jack had done.
The starlight edged the waves and the Pearl's black shrouds with silver, and the once-cursed ship sailed on through the long night, laughter and music drifting back from her deck like the sound of freedom.
Rating: PG
Pairings: Canon with a bit of J/A hinting.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Written for ErinRua, who wanted Jack and Will at sea and loving it. Merry Christmas, Captain!
Feedback: Always appreciated.
Christmas at Sea
She was a live thing under his hands, straining forward as though she meant to take flight like a gull off the sea.
Will Turner gripped the wheel of the Black Pearl, and felt his heart fill like a sail.
So this was what Jack Sparrow meant when he said freedom.
* * * * *
As night crept over the wide sky and the stars kindled above the Pearl, lanterns sprang to life along the length of her deck. Pipes and fiddles were produced, dancing commenced, and the rum flowed freely from a barrel that Jack had ordered rolled up on deck. Presently the Captain himself came astern, followed by Anamaria.
"Come, lad," Jack said. "Ana here'll take the helm for awhile."
Anamaria stepped forward and gave Will a quick nod, placing a firm hand on the wheel. After a moment, Will released it, feeling oddly reluctant.
"Go on, now," Ana said. "Your own lady's been waitin' to dance with you. It's a hard fate for a woman to find herself jealous of a ship, you know." She shot a pointed glance at Jack, who seemed determined not to notice it, Will thought. He smiled to himself, and went in search of his wife.
* * * * *
"Happy Christmas, Will." Elizabeth stood on tiptoes to kiss him very thoroughly.
"I'd forgotten," Will said, when he could speak again. "The days flow together on board ship, don't they....Is it really Christmas?"
"Our first at sea," she affirmed, her eyes sparkling, and pulled him towards the knot of dancers.
When they had whirled across the boards to Elizabeth's satisfaction, Will leaned against the rail, somewhat dizzy, watching her spin laughing in the center of the impromptu dance floor with Gibbs in some spirited Irish jig.
Jack materialized beside him, pressing a large mug of rum into his hand. "Well, young Will? What say you?" The Captain's eyes glinted in the lantern-light as he lifted his own glass. "To a pirate's life, eh?"
"To a pirate's life," Will answered, and chased the burn of the liquor with a deep breath of sea air. Beneath their feet, the Black Pearl quivered and leapt forward as the Christmas wind filled her sails. Will flexed his hands, feeling the life and power of her still lingering there, and looked back involuntarily towards the helm; Ana caught his gaze, and answered it with a crooked half-smile, as if she knew the bearing of his thoughts.
He was beginning to understand why Jack had risked and lost so much to get her back, had spent ten years in pursuit of a lady made of wood and canvas and black magic.
Jack's hand fell on his shoulder, startling him.
"Bill would've been right proud, lad," he said, low; Will turned in time to see the pirate tip his cup of rum over the rail, pouring the contents into the foam that swirled in their wake.
"I think he would have," Will said, equally softly, and poured out his cup as Jack had done.
The starlight edged the waves and the Pearl's black shrouds with silver, and the once-cursed ship sailed on through the long night, laughter and music drifting back from her deck like the sound of freedom.