FANFIC: Familiarities With Pirates (4/?)
A special thank you goes out once again to danglingdingle , for inspiring, encouraging and perfecting my words. Oh, and putting up with my flights of fancy.
Previous chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3
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Familiarities with Pirates - Chapter 4
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Will Turner sat, head in hands, on the narrow bed in the shabby room he’d let above the tavern. The noise of the rowdy patrons filtered up through the worn wooden floorboards, along with the high shrieks of laughter from the many whores, actively plying their trade among the eager sailors in port for the night.
It seemed a lifetime ago since he’d been in Port Royal, instead of just months. He felt like a ship adrift in a sea confusion, his anchor lost, his rudder fouled. One year ago life had been simple, had purpose. But that had been before he’d met Jack Sparrow, who had burst into his life and turned everything upside down.
But now, Will had been offered an opportunity to return to safe harbor, to what he knew best. An opportunity that came at the hands of the last person he’d wanted to see. And while he’d expected the Commodore to be condescending, Norrington had instead been nothing but conciliatory, as he’d explained his offer.
****
Earlier that day…
“We will set you up here at the fort’s forge. There is adequate space to accommodate you and whatever assistants you require. All you have to do is sign the papers.” Norrington waved the packet in his hand. “Do we have an accord?”
Will Turner smiled slightly. “On one condition.”
Norrington studied at man across the desk from him. His brief life as a sailor had hardened him; he sensed Turner was no longer the earnest young man he’d once known, impetuous, prone to rash actions. There was a deliberateness about him now, calculating, serious.
He suspected he had Sparrow to thank for that. A perinneal thorn in his side, the pirate had had the audacity, earlier that day, to sashay unannounced and uninvited into his office, make himself at home and proceed to make disparaging remarks about his marriage. And Elizabeth…
His thoughts were interrupted by Turner’s demand.
“I want you to rebuild Brown’s shop.”
“That is a tall order, the smithy burned to the ground.” Norrington frowned. He had expected some conditions to his offer, but not this. “It could take months. Months which we do not have. I am afraid that is out of the question.”
“It was not a question.” Turner stood abruptly. “Those are my terms, Commodore. I want my own shop, or there’s no deal.”
Norrington did a quick mental tally of the pros and cons of the demand.. On one hand, he did not see the need to accommodate the smith’s request, there was a perfectly adequate forge at the fort. One the other hand, having his own shop would allow the swordsmith to hire as many assistants as needed to fill the ever burgeoning orders for the increased naval presence in port. Used to making rapid decisions under fire, the Commodore didn’t hesitant.
“We have an accord, with one condition of my own.”
“What’s that?” Turner asked, brow furrowed in suspicion.
“That you start work immediately, here at the fort, until your shop can be rebuilt.” He rose and stuck out his hand. “Does this meet with your satisfaction?”
Will gave the outstretched hand a wary look before shaking it. “Agreed.”
“Excellent.” Norrington smiled. “Now if you will just sign here…”
****
A knock on the door interrupted Will’s recollections. Frowning, he silently crossed the room and listened, ear to the door. Another knock, more persistent, followed by a muffled curse. He knew that voice.
Will opened the door. “Jack. What are you doing here?”
Jack Sparrow pushed past Will, bottle of rum and two mugs in hand. “Come to celebrate your new life.”
Will followed him across the narrow room. “Look, Jack. It’s late. It’s been a long day, and I’m really not in the mood…”
“Nonsense!” Jack interrupted pouring a liberal splash of rum into the mugs. Handing one to Will, he raised the other. “I propose a toast. To Will Turner. Blacksmith turned pirate turned blacksmith.” He flashed Will a golden grin before downing his drink in one healthy swallow.
“I didn’t turn pirate,” Will pointed out, setting down his mug without drinking.
Jack poured himself another drink and, taking tankard and bottle with him, plopped down on the bed, stretching out comfortably, back to the wall. “I beg to differ, though that is neither here or there. The fact of the matter is that you are here, and not there. That is, unless you changed your mind?”
Will quashed Jack’s hopeful look. “No, I haven’t. I won’t be going with you when you sail.”
“Pity.”
Will stifled a yawn, and glared at Jack, lounging comfortably on the bed, not appearing to be in any hurry to go. “Jack, look. I am tired, I would like to go to bed.”
Grinning widely, Jack patted the bed next to him. “Thought you’d never ask.”
“Alone.” Will folded his arms and jutted his chin towards the door. “Now, if you don’t mind...”
“The fact of the matter is, I do mind.” Jack sat up, suddenly sober and serious. “Whatever it is you are searching for, Will Turner, it’s not in Port Royal.”
“How do you know?” Will asked, angrily. “What do you even know about what I want?”
“More than you think.” Jack stood, setting the bottle on the table. “I know you need to make a difference, you are not one for idleness, nor enjoying pleasure just for the sake of it,” he said, ticking each item off on his fingers. “But life is not all work and no play, Will.”
Will snorted. “What do you know of an honest day’s work?”
“Plenty. Enough to know that life is too short to be a slave for another.”
“I’ll have my own shop.” Will said, defensively.
“Yet still answer to the Commodore.” Jack pointed out. “And tell me, William. Are you willing to give up your freedom to be at the beck and call of the man who stole your girl?”
“Leave Elizabeth out of this,” Will’s voice had a dangerous edge. Jack was trying his patience.
“Ah, yes. Lovely Lizzie.” Jack smile was predatory. “She was quite adamant this evening at assuring me her marriage was adequate. In all ways.”
“You saw Elizabeth?”
“Briefly. Before her dashing husband threw me out.”
Will frowned. “Did she…”
“Inquire about you?” Jack nodded. “Was a bit too eager for the Commodore’s tastes. I would be careful, if I were you, in your dealings with Mrs. Norrington.”
Will slumped down on the chair. He hadn’t thought about the idea he might run into Elizabeth when he’d signed the papers earlier.
Jack put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it gently. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
“Yes. Truth of the matter is, Jack, I miss the smith. Perhaps you don’t understand, but for me it is more than hard work.” Will said, with passion. “To see a lifeless piece of metal become reborn in my hands, transformed into something of beauty and strength, there is nothing quite like it.”
His animation for his craft was suddenly superseded by a memory of Elizabeth, faced flushed in excitement, lips parted, eyes sparkling. He reluctantly pushed the image out of his mind. “It is what I do best, and as you said, I can make a difference,” he finished, voice flat.
Jack raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue the point. He raised his glass once more. “Then I will drink to your health and happiness. Until we meet again.”
Will raised his untouched glass and clunked it to Jack’s. “Fair winds and a following sea.” He drank finally, then held out his hand. “Thank you, Jack.”
Jack shook his hand solemnly. “Me offer still stands, if you change your mind.”
Before Will could answer, Jack was gone, in a swirl of coattails.
For some reason he could not quite put a finger on, Jack’s offer was reassuring. Will retired for the night and, for the first times in months, slept soundly, at peace with himself.
****
On to Part 5
Previous chapters: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3
****
Familiarities with Pirates - Chapter 4
****
Will Turner sat, head in hands, on the narrow bed in the shabby room he’d let above the tavern. The noise of the rowdy patrons filtered up through the worn wooden floorboards, along with the high shrieks of laughter from the many whores, actively plying their trade among the eager sailors in port for the night.
It seemed a lifetime ago since he’d been in Port Royal, instead of just months. He felt like a ship adrift in a sea confusion, his anchor lost, his rudder fouled. One year ago life had been simple, had purpose. But that had been before he’d met Jack Sparrow, who had burst into his life and turned everything upside down.
But now, Will had been offered an opportunity to return to safe harbor, to what he knew best. An opportunity that came at the hands of the last person he’d wanted to see. And while he’d expected the Commodore to be condescending, Norrington had instead been nothing but conciliatory, as he’d explained his offer.
****
Earlier that day…
“We will set you up here at the fort’s forge. There is adequate space to accommodate you and whatever assistants you require. All you have to do is sign the papers.” Norrington waved the packet in his hand. “Do we have an accord?”
Will Turner smiled slightly. “On one condition.”
Norrington studied at man across the desk from him. His brief life as a sailor had hardened him; he sensed Turner was no longer the earnest young man he’d once known, impetuous, prone to rash actions. There was a deliberateness about him now, calculating, serious.
He suspected he had Sparrow to thank for that. A perinneal thorn in his side, the pirate had had the audacity, earlier that day, to sashay unannounced and uninvited into his office, make himself at home and proceed to make disparaging remarks about his marriage. And Elizabeth…
His thoughts were interrupted by Turner’s demand.
“I want you to rebuild Brown’s shop.”
“That is a tall order, the smithy burned to the ground.” Norrington frowned. He had expected some conditions to his offer, but not this. “It could take months. Months which we do not have. I am afraid that is out of the question.”
“It was not a question.” Turner stood abruptly. “Those are my terms, Commodore. I want my own shop, or there’s no deal.”
Norrington did a quick mental tally of the pros and cons of the demand.. On one hand, he did not see the need to accommodate the smith’s request, there was a perfectly adequate forge at the fort. One the other hand, having his own shop would allow the swordsmith to hire as many assistants as needed to fill the ever burgeoning orders for the increased naval presence in port. Used to making rapid decisions under fire, the Commodore didn’t hesitant.
“We have an accord, with one condition of my own.”
“What’s that?” Turner asked, brow furrowed in suspicion.
“That you start work immediately, here at the fort, until your shop can be rebuilt.” He rose and stuck out his hand. “Does this meet with your satisfaction?”
Will gave the outstretched hand a wary look before shaking it. “Agreed.”
“Excellent.” Norrington smiled. “Now if you will just sign here…”
****
A knock on the door interrupted Will’s recollections. Frowning, he silently crossed the room and listened, ear to the door. Another knock, more persistent, followed by a muffled curse. He knew that voice.
Will opened the door. “Jack. What are you doing here?”
Jack Sparrow pushed past Will, bottle of rum and two mugs in hand. “Come to celebrate your new life.”
Will followed him across the narrow room. “Look, Jack. It’s late. It’s been a long day, and I’m really not in the mood…”
“Nonsense!” Jack interrupted pouring a liberal splash of rum into the mugs. Handing one to Will, he raised the other. “I propose a toast. To Will Turner. Blacksmith turned pirate turned blacksmith.” He flashed Will a golden grin before downing his drink in one healthy swallow.
“I didn’t turn pirate,” Will pointed out, setting down his mug without drinking.
Jack poured himself another drink and, taking tankard and bottle with him, plopped down on the bed, stretching out comfortably, back to the wall. “I beg to differ, though that is neither here or there. The fact of the matter is that you are here, and not there. That is, unless you changed your mind?”
Will quashed Jack’s hopeful look. “No, I haven’t. I won’t be going with you when you sail.”
“Pity.”
Will stifled a yawn, and glared at Jack, lounging comfortably on the bed, not appearing to be in any hurry to go. “Jack, look. I am tired, I would like to go to bed.”
Grinning widely, Jack patted the bed next to him. “Thought you’d never ask.”
“Alone.” Will folded his arms and jutted his chin towards the door. “Now, if you don’t mind...”
“The fact of the matter is, I do mind.” Jack sat up, suddenly sober and serious. “Whatever it is you are searching for, Will Turner, it’s not in Port Royal.”
“How do you know?” Will asked, angrily. “What do you even know about what I want?”
“More than you think.” Jack stood, setting the bottle on the table. “I know you need to make a difference, you are not one for idleness, nor enjoying pleasure just for the sake of it,” he said, ticking each item off on his fingers. “But life is not all work and no play, Will.”
Will snorted. “What do you know of an honest day’s work?”
“Plenty. Enough to know that life is too short to be a slave for another.”
“I’ll have my own shop.” Will said, defensively.
“Yet still answer to the Commodore.” Jack pointed out. “And tell me, William. Are you willing to give up your freedom to be at the beck and call of the man who stole your girl?”
“Leave Elizabeth out of this,” Will’s voice had a dangerous edge. Jack was trying his patience.
“Ah, yes. Lovely Lizzie.” Jack smile was predatory. “She was quite adamant this evening at assuring me her marriage was adequate. In all ways.”
“You saw Elizabeth?”
“Briefly. Before her dashing husband threw me out.”
Will frowned. “Did she…”
“Inquire about you?” Jack nodded. “Was a bit too eager for the Commodore’s tastes. I would be careful, if I were you, in your dealings with Mrs. Norrington.”
Will slumped down on the chair. He hadn’t thought about the idea he might run into Elizabeth when he’d signed the papers earlier.
Jack put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it gently. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
“Yes. Truth of the matter is, Jack, I miss the smith. Perhaps you don’t understand, but for me it is more than hard work.” Will said, with passion. “To see a lifeless piece of metal become reborn in my hands, transformed into something of beauty and strength, there is nothing quite like it.”
His animation for his craft was suddenly superseded by a memory of Elizabeth, faced flushed in excitement, lips parted, eyes sparkling. He reluctantly pushed the image out of his mind. “It is what I do best, and as you said, I can make a difference,” he finished, voice flat.
Jack raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue the point. He raised his glass once more. “Then I will drink to your health and happiness. Until we meet again.”
Will raised his untouched glass and clunked it to Jack’s. “Fair winds and a following sea.” He drank finally, then held out his hand. “Thank you, Jack.”
Jack shook his hand solemnly. “Me offer still stands, if you change your mind.”
Before Will could answer, Jack was gone, in a swirl of coattails.
For some reason he could not quite put a finger on, Jack’s offer was reassuring. Will retired for the night and, for the first times in months, slept soundly, at peace with himself.
****
On to Part 5