Story: Bittersweet
This is to counter the recent stream of wank. A nice, cynical pirate story to brighten your day!
For those who think 'bittersweet' is deeper than a happy ending, this story is just the thing for you! Warning: Spoilers.
Disclaimer: I own none of this. The elements in this story are created and owned by Ted Elliott and Terry Rossio, Jerry Bruckheimer, Gore Verbinski, Disney, and of course, Ambrose Bierce. I am making no money from the forthcoming endeavor.
Bittersweet
"Yo-ho, yo-ho, a pirate's life for me..."
Young Elizabeth Swann stood singing on the deck, staring into the fog and letting the warning of that fat old drunken idiot Gibbs about cursed pirates in these waters go in one ear and out the other. She was the daughter of Jamaica's new Governor, and no one would tell her what not to sing.
The fog parted, revealing burning wreckage, and Elizabeth heard gasps of consternation from the men. Her keen eyes spied an object bobbing out upon the waves. "Look -- there's a boy in the water!"
"Take care of him," her father said, after the lad had been pulled out of the sea and laid on the deck. He promptly rowed off with Lieutenant Norrington, leaving her alone, as usual. She had become used to her father going off to political meetings and court functions while she remained at home, bored to tears. Some day, she promised herself, she would find a man who did not leave her behind.
This time was different, though, for Papa had left her in charge of an unconscious youngster. She spied a glimmer of gold at his neck and reached to pull it away. The boy's eyes flicked open . . .
* * *
Will Turner opened his eyes and looked up into the face of an angel. 'I thought I was dead,' he told himself, as she stroked the damp hair away from his face, 'but now I am alive. I will live for this girl, and I will die for her . . .'
* * *
And so he had done. He worshipped her from afar during the years of his apprenticeship, becoming a skilled maker of swords and a crafter in metal so that he might be worthy of her favor. When the Black Pearl attacked Port Royal and took Elizabeth, Will Turner had risked all to follow her and to rescue her. No matter that he had lain down with dogs to do it; her life was well worth the cost. And when Jack Sparrow had shown a surprisingly decent side by helping him, Will had returned the favor, saving Jack from the hangman.
He had been willing to pay the price for that, but when Elizabeth faced the noose along with him, he'd had no choice but to seek Jack out again. In the course of it, Will learned the sting of betrayal and found his lost father. When Bootstrap had sacrificed himself for his son, Will learned the pain of opposing loyalties. He owed his father. He owed Jack, and he loved Elizabeth, even though he feared her heart might belong to another.
The journey to the ends of the earth and back had been a dark one; he had lost more and more of his soul along the way, yet in the end, he saved his father and found Elizabeth's love again. It came at a horrible cost; he had taken one of his own swords through the heart and condemned himself to servitude ferrying the dead, but his Elizabeth was a pearl of great price. His last day on land with her had been everything a man could ask for in an entire lifetime.
He stood now on the deck of the Dutchman, straining for his first view of land. Ten years it had been, ten lonely, joyless years in which he often wondered how it was possible to feel such loneliness and grief when his heart was so far away. There had been many times as well, when he wished he were truly a eunuch, as Jack Sparrow had been so fond of suggesting, but when he saw Elizabeth standing on the cliff, silhouetted against the darkening sky, he knew the sacrifice and the privation had not been in vain. His face slowly bloomed into an ethereal smile. Only one day with her, or all of his remaining life, it made no difference. She had waited and that made all of it worthwhile.
Will Turner dove from the bow of the anchored Dutchman and swam towards shore. She was standing on the beach by the time he reached the shallows. "Elizabeth!" he cried, struggling up through the surf. "Elizabeth . . . !"
"Will," she said and held out her arms. Behind her, he could see a boy staring at him with shy, hopeful eyes. Oh, God . . . his son! Will heard him singing, in his piping voice, "Yo-ho, yo-ho, a pirate's life for me . . . ."
"I love you, Elizabeth," he said. As he stepped up onto the dry sand of the beach, he felt the awful void in his chest and the strength drained from his legs. Will Turner was a mortal man again, and he had no heart . . . .
* * *
Young Elizabeth Swann looked down as the boy's brown eyes slowly glazed over. "He died," she said, as she sensed her father's shadow over her again.
Edging Weatherby Swann aside, Lt. James Norrington reached down to take the gold medallion from Elizabeth's hand. "Don't trouble yourself, Miss Swann. This boy was a pirate, or a pirate's get. I would have had to hang him anyway, eventually."