(no subject)
Rating: G
Words: 409
Characters/Pairings: Will and Elizabeth (not shippy, though, cause hey, they're kids)
Summary: A fourteen year old Will, and a thirteen year old Elizabeth. I was toying with the knowledge of Elizabeth's childhood fascination, and the fact that she knew stories of Jack before meeting him. So yeah, for my little Sparrabeth heart this is more hinting at future shipping, and so it's still not Will and Elizabeth. ;]
"He sounds like a madman!" Exclaimed a fourteen year old William Turner, "And looks like one, too, for that matter. Come now, Eliza--Miss Swann, take that off your head."
His playmate, heroine, and best friend, stood very stoic, hands on her hips, looking rather ridiculous with what might have been called a pillow case wrapped about her head as though it were a bandanna. It was a reddish color, and she was very proud of it. Though she wore all the trappings of a young lady, one skinned elbow and dirt smudged cheek gave her away as anything but.
"Honestly Will, how many times must I ask you to call me Elizabeth?" She sighed, dropping her hands to her sides, and moving over to the open book she'd left sitting on the window sill. Tales of Pyrates & Pyracy, or some such nonsense, young Turner wondered, silently, why he gave into her whims. It did sound like fun, in theory, but he was to start his apprenticeship with the local blacksmith soon, and no longer had time for such childish games.
Elizabeth's face lit up, the way that it always did when she read from the book (it was so worn that the binding had begun to come apart), "It says here that he sacked Nassau Port without even firing a shot, can you imagine? There's a portrait, see," She chewed her lip furiously, examining the man who's stories were her favorite, "I wonder why he has all those trinkets in his hair?"
"This is pointless." The boy said under his breath.
"Oh hush, you." She scolded, sounding much older than her thirteen years, "You couldn't possibly understand."
One year prior she had suspected his involvement with such adventures, the medallion she wore tucked beneath layers of status reminded her. But in the year she had come to believe that perhaps she had been wrong. Still, she kept trying, kept hoping. Silently she traced the letters of the pirate's name, childlike hope hinging upon the idea that maybe he'd be the one to save her.
"Captain Jack Sparrow," She muttered, to see what the name felt like on her lips. "I should like to meet him one day."
Will rolled his eyes, because sometimes that's the only thing one could do when confronted with Elizabeth Swann's flights of fancy.
Words: 409
Characters/Pairings: Will and Elizabeth (not shippy, though, cause hey, they're kids)
Summary: A fourteen year old Will, and a thirteen year old Elizabeth. I was toying with the knowledge of Elizabeth's childhood fascination, and the fact that she knew stories of Jack before meeting him. So yeah, for my little Sparrabeth heart this is more hinting at future shipping, and so it's still not Will and Elizabeth. ;]
"He sounds like a madman!" Exclaimed a fourteen year old William Turner, "And looks like one, too, for that matter. Come now, Eliza--Miss Swann, take that off your head."
His playmate, heroine, and best friend, stood very stoic, hands on her hips, looking rather ridiculous with what might have been called a pillow case wrapped about her head as though it were a bandanna. It was a reddish color, and she was very proud of it. Though she wore all the trappings of a young lady, one skinned elbow and dirt smudged cheek gave her away as anything but.
"Honestly Will, how many times must I ask you to call me Elizabeth?" She sighed, dropping her hands to her sides, and moving over to the open book she'd left sitting on the window sill. Tales of Pyrates & Pyracy, or some such nonsense, young Turner wondered, silently, why he gave into her whims. It did sound like fun, in theory, but he was to start his apprenticeship with the local blacksmith soon, and no longer had time for such childish games.
Elizabeth's face lit up, the way that it always did when she read from the book (it was so worn that the binding had begun to come apart), "It says here that he sacked Nassau Port without even firing a shot, can you imagine? There's a portrait, see," She chewed her lip furiously, examining the man who's stories were her favorite, "I wonder why he has all those trinkets in his hair?"
"This is pointless." The boy said under his breath.
"Oh hush, you." She scolded, sounding much older than her thirteen years, "You couldn't possibly understand."
One year prior she had suspected his involvement with such adventures, the medallion she wore tucked beneath layers of status reminded her. But in the year she had come to believe that perhaps she had been wrong. Still, she kept trying, kept hoping. Silently she traced the letters of the pirate's name, childlike hope hinging upon the idea that maybe he'd be the one to save her.
"Captain Jack Sparrow," She muttered, to see what the name felt like on her lips. "I should like to meet him one day."
Will rolled his eyes, because sometimes that's the only thing one could do when confronted with Elizabeth Swann's flights of fancy.