[FIC][AWE SPOILERS] POTC - ASSUMPTIONS - PG - 1/1
Before we crack on with the fic, I have an urgent Beta request. I don’t have a beta for this fandom, and if anyone is interested, or interested in being a story trouble-shooter over MSN or Yahoo messenger, please please please contact me. I am in dire need.
This fic is Unbeta’d at this point. I take full credit, good and bad! *grin*
Author: Jennie (jenexell_fic@yahoo.co.uk)
Title: Assumptions
Pairing: W/E
Characters: Will, Elizabeth, Jack, Gibbs, Bootstrap, Tia Dalma
Disclaimer: I own nothing, I earn nothing, and I mean no disrespect.
Feedback: Please?
Summery: AWE SPOILERS - Assumptions. People made all kinds of assumptions. About duty, responsibility, roles and Curses. Especially about curses.
AN: This fic can stand alone, but I’m actually working on it as the prologue to much a longer story.
Assumptions. People made all kinds of assumptions. About duty, responsibility, roles and Curses. Especially about curses. But just because an assumption is made by even the shrewdest of sea goddesses, it doesn’t mean its right, because even the shrewdest of sea goddesses couldn’t have counted on one simple fact.
Turners always got their own way… eventually. Well at least this generation seemed to.
Mrs Elizabeth Turner, Pirate King, leaned against the rail of the Black Pearl, the wind flicking at the few strands of her hair that had come lose from the tight braid at her back as she stared at the horizon. The first rays of the morning sun were breaking in the distance and the sky was painted with shades of orange and red.
A rhyme from her childhood filtered through her mind, and she found herself whispering it softly. “Red sky at night, sailor’s delight, red sky in the morning…”
“Sailors’ warning.” A voice drawled beside her. Elizabeth turned her head to view the speaker, smiling slightly at the replacement trinket sitting over his bandanna, and the mischievous twinkle that never seemed to fade from knoll rimmed, coal black eyes. The man sniffed, and tilted his head back to view the sky.
“Do you think he’ll come, Jack?”
Turning around to lean back on the railing, Captain Jack Sparrow continued to gaze up at the lightening sky. “Lizzy, Love. If there’s one thing I’ve learnt about your occasionally irritatingly earnest husband, it’s that when it comes to you…”
The pirate was cut off as the boat suddenly rocked alarmingly and the sea heaved beside them. With a roar of displaced water, the Flying Dutchman surged to the surface.
“… the boy has finally, mastered the art of the opportune momen..nhahahhh!!”
Elizabeth span away from the rail as Jack made a sound a cross between creeped-out and surprised and felt all the breath leave her body.
“Will…” Her voice come out hoarser that she’d hoped, but she doubted anyone could blame her. Will, her Will, Captain of the Flying Dutchman was stood on the deck of the Pearl, sword raised, the point resting under Jack’s chin so he was forced to keep his head tilted back uncomfortably. His eyes left Jack and swung over to her, his face softening.
“Elizabeth.”
“YES!” Jack yelped, interrupting a seemingly endless moment when the two lovers’ eyes met. “That is, in fact, the delightful Mrs Turner. And as you can see, she’s all safe and well. and by some miraculous feat not in mortal peril, so if you would, perhaps like to move your little sword away from your old friend, Captain Jack, I’d be exceedingly grateful, and maybe even overlook the fact your crew, is holding my crew, at blade point.”
“Your crew?” One of the Dutchman’s crew Spoke up in a gravely voice, “Last we saw, your crew consisted of a dead seabird and a bottle of rum sitting in the bottom of a bathtub being pulled behind a Dutch Merchant ship.”
A chorus of chuckles met the statement as all eyes turned to squirming Captain Jack.
“As you can see Bootstrap, that was only a temporary arrangement.” Jack countered in affront.
Will shook his head in amusement, lowering his sword, but never taking his eyes from his wife. “Lower your weapons and return to the Dutchman.”
With a chorus of “Aye captain” and the hiss of many held breaths being released, the Dutchman’s and the Pearl’s crew began to separate. Will turned to move towards his love, but didn’t need to move far as his arms were suddenly full of Elizabeth.
Her arms around his neck, he dipped his head and kissed her, the echo of the order to return the Dutchman fading out of his awareness along with everything else. Pulling back, he rested his cloth covered forehead against hers for a moment before pulling her tight against his body, her head on his shoulder. Just the feel of her in his arms was a balm to his soul; a soul he hadn’t realised had grown weary over the last long months.
A hand on his arm broke the spell that seemed to have fallen over them both, and he looked up to see the crew of the pearl, Jack included had returned to whatever duties they had, and his own crew, bar his father had left the ship.
“William.”
Will brought his eyes up to meet those of his father. His name had been spoken softly, almost tenderly with an underlying hint of sadness. So few people said his name these days, only his father and Jack, the occasional times they would cross paths on the open ocean.
“We can’t stay Will, you can’t stay.” Bootstrap said quietly; Sympathy in his eyes as they strayed from his son to his daughter-in-law.
“I know.”
Bill nodded and turned away, slipping through the ship in the blink of an eye and back to the Dutchman.
Resting his head on top of Elizabeth’s he let it stay there until she pulled back, her fingers still entwined in his shirt. “How long?”
Will shook his head. “I don’t know… not long.”
Elizabeth swallowed thickly and nodded. “Then you better come below, there’s something I need you to see.”
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“Three Cabins?” Will asked in confusion as Elizabeth led him below decks. The layout of the pearl seemed to have been greatly changed since the last time he was onboard. But then again, so much of his life had changed since the last time he sailed on the pearl, why not the ship too?
“One of the duties of the pirate King is to settle disputes between the Lords. The pearl needed refitting so it seemed like the best solution.” Elizabeth answered with a smirk, her fingers twined with Will’s.
“Jack and Barbossa…” Will said in dawning comprehension. “and one for you. A ship with three Captains.” He shook his head incredulously, and ran his hand along the wall. “Poor Girl.”
Elizabeth laughed and squeezed Will’s fingers. “Two Captains, I still have my own ship after all.”
“How could I forget, Captain Swann,” Will laughed, then frowned, “But if you’re here…”
“She’s sailing to shipwreck cove, Barbossa agreed to get everything ready for us there.” Elizabeth sighed as Will’s brow furrowed in confusion. Pausing outside the door to one of the Cabins, Elizabeth licked her lips nervously. Opening the door she led Will slowly inside, disentangling their fingers once he was across the threshold.
As Will took a moment to scan the Cabin, she strode over the far side, disappearing behind a curtain before returning, something cradled gently in her arms.
“Will…” Elizabeth whispered, seeing Will’s vaguely curious look around the Cabin turn into a wide eyed stare of disbelief. “I want you to meet your son.”
“My…” Will swallowed thickly and took a small step forward, then another at Elizabeth’s encouraging smile. Finally he stood before her… and his son. His son. His son. He vaguely felt the gentle hand nudging him towards the bed, and sat heavily when it caught the back of his knees, his eyes still transfixed by the squirming infant in his wife’s arms. His hand reached out tentatively and he almost pulled back when large brown eyes turned in his direction. Elizabeth sat herself gently beside him and with a little coaxing and guidance, Will was holding his son. His son! It was incredible, awe inspiring and terrifying all at the same time. So many thoughts and feelings were tumbling over each other for dominance in his mind; joy, despair, anguish, hope. He thought of his own early years and his gut twisted painfully, he thought of his duty and he felt bile rise in his throat. He looked into those huge inquisitive, dark eyes, ‘his eyes’ his mind registered, then up to the hazel eyes he’d once as a young boy made up exceptionally bad poetry about, and one feeling swamped them all. Love, so much pure, unadulterated, soul bending, time defying, gut wrenching, mind numbing love. His Wife, His Son! “My son.”
Elizabeth watched the emotions play across the face she knew so well and her eyes burned. She’d pictured this moment so many times. Seconds after the physician in Port Royale had given her the news, all those months under the curious and judgemental stares of Port Royale society as her belly swelled and her moods drove her from elation to despair and back again. When Barbossa had brought word from the brethren of their “request” and as Jack had sailed the Pearl right into port brazen as anything as the Empress was loaded with everything she wanted to keep of her previous life. Oh yes she’d pictured this many times, but nothing compared the actual moment. Reaching out she brushed her fingers along the baby’s cheek.
“Daniel, this is your father,” She choked.
“Daniel?” Will asked softly.
“William Daniel Turner.” Elizabeth replied in an equally soft tone. She didn’t need to say why their son would never be one of the many shortened versions of William; he’d been named to honour his father, and Will’s heartless chest filled with pride, but he had been spared the burden of wanting, with a child’s logic and love, to fill the void left in the wake of his namesake. It was a burden Will had known well, and wished more than anything he could spare his son.
Will felt a tug on his finger and looked down with a smile as the digit was gripped tightly and pulled into an eager mouth. “He’s so strong already.”
“And he’ll keep getting stronger, just like his father.” Elizabeth smiled back, sadness in her eyes. She could see the conflict in Will’s face. The joy at being presented with his son, and the knowledge he would have to leave.
“I’m going to miss so much.” Will almost sobbed.
“Will…” Elizabeth responded to his distress, but suddenly his head shot up and his gaze fixed to a place beyond the wall of the cabin. When his eyes returned to hers they were filled with deep sadness and longing, but also fire. The Captain had been called. Slipping her hands under Daniel’s body and lifting him from Will’s arms, she sat back. “Go.”
Will stood and took a step forward before pausing and spinning back, lowering himself to capture Elizabeth’s lips in one last breath stealing kiss. “We are not ships in the night.” He swore passionately. “Whenever I can, for however long as I can. I will find you. Both of you.”
Elizabeth nodded and watched as he walked not for the door, but instead straight through a bulkhead and vanished into the wood. Not a second passed before the door to Cabin opened and Gibbs poked his head through. Looking up, she frowned.
“They’re casting off.” When Elizabeth continued to look at him in blank sadness, Gibbs strode forward and lifted Daniel from her arms. “Go lass! Wave him off!”
She didn’t need telling twice. Running as fast as she could she bolted through the ship and up to the deck. She hit the railing so hard, many of the crew thought she’d go straight through, but instead she merely braced her hands on the black stained wood, standing on tiptoe as if that would give her a better view of the departing Dutchman.
There! She saw him, striding across the deck of the ship, shouting orders to a bustling crew. She watched him climb to the quarter deck, and then he turned. And for one brief second she was there with him on the Dutchman, but then it passed and the ship continued to turn away. Pushing up on the railing she didn’t even realise she was screaming until Jack pulled her away.
“Easy Love. He’ll find you again.”
Head resting on Jack’s chest, she continued to look out at the ship as it moved away and swallowed thickly.
“And I will wait until he does.”
**********************************************************************************************
The pearl was just a speck on the horizon, the morning sun making the sea around her glimmer. Will leant heavily on the rail of the Flying Dutchman’s quarter deck, inhaling the rich scent of the ocean air, and enjoying the warmth of the sun that was so absent in the world below. The noises of the ship were a dull background drone to him, his mind still back on the pearl and all that he’d once again had to leave behind.
“Jack told me about the babe. I think congratulations are in order.”
Will blinked but didn’t look at the man who’d come to stand beside him. Bootstrap Bill turner, his father, his one true confidant on board, and one of the two people he counted as his lieutenants.
“Thank-you.” Will replied quietly.
“We’re not the same, you know.” Bootstrap said, knowing without having to be told what was going through his son’s mind. Knowing, that Will feared that his own son would one day carry the same scars and the same resentment he carried, from his, Bill Turner’s, fateful choice to abandon his family.
“He’ll still grow up without me.” Will sighed.
“Not by your choice. Never by your choice William, never forget that. And that Wife of yours, she won’t let him forget that either.” Bootstrap reassured.
They remained in silence for a long moment before Will rubbed his eye and sighed.
“Shipwreck cove.” He mumbled under his breath.
“What?” Bootstrap frowned in confusion; why would his son mention that place?
“Shipwreck cove.” Will said louder. “She mentioned it in passing on the pearl… said she was moving there… then as we left, I’m sure I heard her shout it.” Will shook his head, his brow still furrowed in confusion. The furrows deepened as Bootstrap started to laugh.
“Clever girl.” Bootstrap chuckled. “Then, I shouldn’t expect anything less of your wife now should I?”
At Will’s continued look of confusion, Bootstrap gripped his shoulder, caught his gaze and held it, his expression suddenly serious. “William. Shipwreck gets its name from the Keep of the Brethren that sits in the middle of the cove. Home of the Court and the Pirate King. The stories say Jones built it for the first court, and they’ve used it ever since.”
“Right… Why Shipwreck?” Will asked in deepening confusion.
“Because that’s what the Keep is made of.” Bill supplied, grinning again.
Will just looked at him incredulously. “Shipwrecks?”
“On a reef.” Bill Supplied.
Dawning hope flickered in Will’s eyes, and as Bootstrap’s smile continued steadily, Will found himself returning it, before turning his face once more to view the horizon. He felt his father’s final pat on his back, but didn’t respond as he moved away. Still smiling he tilted his head up to the sun and closed his eyes.
“Whenever I can, for however long as I can. I will find you. Both of you.”
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From the main deck, Bill Turner cast his son one final look before heading below, chuckling to himself and trying to resist the urge to whistle. Crewmen nodded to him as he passed; there weren’t many faces left from before Will’s time now. Some had been too far gone to serve, lost and mindless after decades as part of the fabric of the ship, some simply took the opportunity when offered to move on and some were so corrupted they were beyond the chance at redemption that the Dutchman offered. Will wouldn’t abide that kind of evil on his ship.
Passing below the mid-decks, Bootstrap headed deep into the hold. The birth of his grandchild was a precious gift, and deserved a toast. It was good thing Will didn’t see Rum as evil. As he scanned the rack of bottles, looking for a particularly fine one he’d spotted not so long back, something banged against his foot making him look down.
A crab.
“So what, has become, Of Captain Turner and his fair lady wife?”
Bill’s good humour slipped and he pulled a bottle angrily from the rack. “Elizabeth is moving to Shipwreck cove.” He turned as the shadows changed and watched as Calypso, goddess of the sea, in the guise of Tia Dalma, ambled into view.
“Good. Tis not de path I wouldd’ave cho-sen. But… Twill do. Twill do jus’ fine.” She smiled. Bill didn’t smile. Instead he continued to scowl at the woman who in his mind was responsible for a fate he wouldn’t wish on worst enemy, let alone his only son. Sidling up to him, Tia Dalma sighed, her expression bordering on sadness and contrition. “De Duty, Bill Turner, was never sa-pose to be a Punish-ment. T’was a test. of devo-shan. Of trust. Of love.”
“And you think my son needs testing?” Bill growled angrily. “Elizabeth? Does she need testing too? How about the babe?”
“Cau-shan, Bill Turner.” Tia Dalma snapped back, before softening again. “What is done, I cannot undo. But was is yet sacri-ficed, I can ‘elp to save. De duty, dis ship, need, a captain wid a per-pose, wid devo-shan, and wid a good ‘art. Dere are rules even I cannot break. But dey can be worked around. Deir love a-lone will sustain ‘im. And if it remains true…” She trailed off with a coy smile.
“Tell him!” Bill urged fiercely. “or let me!”
“I cannot. And nor can you.” She replied, and Bill noted it was with genuine sadness.
“Dey must find deir own way. she already started workin’ around de rules. Time come, so will ‘e. love will find a way Bill Turner. Trust dey will triumph, where odders have failed.” With those words her hand strayed to the locket around her neck, her very being filled with utter sadness. “Go now, cele-brate de birth of your grandson.”
Knowing a dismissal when he heard one, and still not sure where he’d found the courage to shout at a goddess, Bill Turner took a deep breath to settle his nerves and made his way to return to the open air, to his son, and to his planned celebration.
Down in the hold, Calypso settled herself on a barrel and opened the music box locket with a sigh. Assumptions. People made all kinds of assumptions. About duty, responsibility, roles and Curses. Especially about curses. And just because an assumption is made, even by the shrewdest of pirates, it didn’t mean it was right, because even the shrewdest of pirates wouldn’t have counted on one simple fact.
Goddess’ didn’t always get their own way… But that didn’t mean they were bitter.
With a small smile she snapped the locket shut, and slipped soundlessly out of the ship and back into the ocean she’d been parted from for too long.
Fin (maybe)