(no subject)
SPOILERS FOR AWE.
Title: Ten-Year Century
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Character(s): Will (Sr.), Elizabeth, William (Jr.), Norrington, Bootstrap, Jack, Anamaria, Beckett
Pairing(s): Will/Elizabeth
Rating: T (implications of sex, alcohol use, etc.)
Word Count: 3767
A/N: My sister asuka-chan wrote a line or two of dialogue throughout here. She has a plucky habit of taking my computer from me and doing whatever she wants. Rum candy is also TOTALLY her fault.
There is a subtle tribute to Star Wars in here, in honor of the anniversary. See if you can find it!
Thanks to mari-isms and babbling_tomato for betaing.
Will can feel the curse inside him. It cuts into his bones, little tendrils wrapping around his immortal flesh like the frigid cold waters of the north.
He has spent the day committing every detail of Elizabeth, of their hours together, to memory: the fit of her body and heat of her skin against his, the whisper of her voice in his hair, the feeling of the sand below them and the sun beating down from above. The images and sensations will haunt him for the years to come.
But the sun is setting, and in the place where his heart used to be, the Dutchman is steadily beating, calling him back out to the open seas. He has a duty now, the price he must pay for what has been done. He gives Elizabeth his heart in truth now, and when she flies into his arms, he tries to make one final kiss last ten years.
------
When Elizabeth first realizes she is pregnant, she weeps bitterly. Will would not be there to hold her hand through the agonizing throes of labor, to see their child take its first breath or teach it to walk and talk and sing little sea shanties. She spends the first mornings heaving and heaving until there is nothing left to heave, and still her stomach muscle contracts and she is horribly, revoltingly miserable.
But there is a small spark of happiness in her that just one day has brought forth this, and that she will be a mother. That tiny spark roars into a raging firestorm of joy and love when the midwife gently nestles her newborn son into her arms. He is wailing and red-faced, but his hair is dark and thick, and when she suckles him, she is rewarded with a glimpse of large, dark brown eyes. She will be the one to teach him to walk and talk and sing sea shanties (and God forbid Jack should come around to teach him to curse and drink rum), and when Will sees him, his heart will swell with the same pride and love she feels.
------
Guiding souls is gruesome, melancholy work, and while Will slowly detaches himself from seeing so many dead, there is still a part of him that pains at every blank expression, every bloated face, every wounded body. He is unendingly compassionate, and the crew find him to be a more than able captain and an endearing soul.
He is shocked from his reserve one day to find, sitting before him, James Norrington. Bootstrap gives Will horribly guilt-filled looks, and soon he and the commodore/pirate/admiral are sharing stories over flagons of rum (Will blames Jack entirely for getting him to drink it). When the drink is gone, Will leans back against the rail and crosses his ankles, watching Norrington thoughtfully.
"I've no idea as to what to do with you, James Norrington," he says. "You effectively told Davy Jones that you don't fear death, and yet I'm too much of a damned sentimental fool to quietly send faces from my past away. If Elizabeth's father were here, I'd take him aboard, useless as he probably is on a ship."
"Jones was a cruel man," Norrington replies. "And while I have fully given myself over to my fate, I still dearly love the sea. Admittedly, the idea of serving under a pirate is repugnant, but I would sail under you, Mister Turner. At least for a little while, if you'll have me."
Will smiles and holds out his hand. "Welcome to the Dutchman, Mister Norrington."
------
When Bootstrap Bill Turner shows up for the first time, Elizabeth gets such a shock that her heart nearly joins Will's in the Dead Man's Chest. He does not stay long, and William hides behind doorjambs and his mother's skirts, peering up with intense, wide-eyed curiosity.
"I feel older than ever," Bootstrap remarks, looking down at William. "Me--a grandfather! I don't think I'd ever thought it in all my wildest imaginings."
Elizabeth only smiles and asks, won't he stay for dinner? But Bootstrap declines. "When we are near enough the odd port town, William sends me out to inquire about a Missus Turner. He especially seemed to think you might be here in Tortuga." He grins. "It's quite some news for him. He'll be very happy to hear."
Elizabeth's eyes are sad, and her smile dwindles slightly. "How is he?"
"Well enough, as can be expected. Healthy and hale, though, which is exactly as everyone wants him. And I have a letter here from him." He pulls from his pocket a thick parchment envelope, and Elizabeth takes it, her hands trembling.
"Thank you." She looks at it, quiet and thoughtful. "I didn't expect--oh, it's silly, I talk to him in my mind all the time--but I haven't been writing anything. I should have. I--" She turns to look at William, then beckons him forward. He comes, shyly, his thumb in his mouth, and Elizabeth takes a kitchen knife and slices a lock of thick, glossy brown curls from his head. She tears the flap from the envelope, wrapping the hair in it, and then ties it with twine before handing it to her father-in-law. "Could you give this to him, please?"
Bootstrap is solemn as he carefully takes the tiny package. "By my honor, I will."
------
In moments of respite, Will leans on the railing at the prow of the Dutchman and, taking the small lock of hair from his pocket, he holds it to his nose. He inhales deeply, and thinks he can almost nearly picture the image Bootstrap described to him: A tiny boy with a head of dark curls and great big brown eyes set under his mother's heavy curved brow, his cheeks rosy and flushed. Then the tickling of the hairs makes him sneeze, and the image is gone; all he sees and smells around him are the ever-reaching ocean and salt water.
He traces the great scar on his chest, and thinks of sitting on a dock next to Elizabeth, William between them, their feet idly treading the water. Will would lift William under his arms and dunk him, laughing, into the warm Caribbean water up to his waist. William would squeal and shriek and kick the water about until he threw a tantrum, and then Elizabeth would scold both father and son, and they would go home to change clothes and have dinner, and sit out on the front porch in the cooling air, watching the sun set and drinking lemonade.
Then one of the men calls out that he sees souls drifting off to starboard, and with a great sigh, Will tucks the dream of fatherhood carefully away in his mind before becoming captain once more.
------
It is difficult and terribly lonely for Elizabeth. Jack drops by every now and then, as does Bootstrap, but these visits are few and far between, and all she has for company is her four-year-old son. He knows very little about his father (how do you tell a child so young that his father is not around because he suffers from an immortal curse?). She longs for a companion, a confidante, a fellow woman to whom she would be able to tell her tale, but none are to be found. People in the town give her strange looks: Fearful, awed, respectful. Tortuga is a wretched hive of scum and villainy, and while many believe there is no honor among thieves, the people on this side of the law greatly revere the Pirate King--especially the one who lead the nine Lords to defeat the East India Trading Company. She finds it hard to grow close to any of them.
She is at the docks with William one day (he has his hat pulled down tightly over his head and is swinging a long piece of grass, singing to himself) when she meets, by lucky chance, Anamaria.
Anamaria is as loud and forceful as ever, but her familiar brashness is so utterly comforting and in such contrast to the placid domesticity Elizabeth has been living that she finds herself opening up for the first time in many years. Anamaria's exclamations are loud, sympathetic, and occasionally so profane that Elizabeth's hands clamp down over William's ears.
"No wonder you're rotting here! Waiting is terrible business. You know what? You need the open sea. Come out with me on a voyage or two. Bring the young lad as well, I promise it won't come to piracy. And if it does, well, none of them would dare steal from you!" Anamaria laughs heartily at this, but Elizabeth can tell she earnestly means her offer. She looks over at William to find he is paying attention, and his eyes are shining with excitement.
"Please, Mum?" he asks eagerly. "Can we please? I promise to be good."
Elizabeth smiles. The sea is in his blood, and in all likelihood, piracy is, too. "All right."
------
They are on the charted mortal seas after a shipwreck one day when the watchman spots a black-masted ship on the horizon. Grinning and feeling oddly more cheerful than he has for a while, Will has the ship hailed.
Will boards the Black Pearl to find familiar faces swarming around him, slapping him on the back and shouting and calling and laughing. Jack walks over with his usual marked swagger, feigning indifference. "William, it has been ages. Still don't look fishy yet. You're not here for my soul, are you?"
Will grins. The world could be burning down around them, and Jack would still be the same old Jack. "Not yours, no. Not unless you want to."
Jack's lip curls. "Thank you for the no doubt very kind offer, but I am more than happy to be alive."
Will laughs and glances around at the crew. "Where's Barbossa?"
"Hector seems to be operating under the delusion that the Pearl is his. Which it is not." Jack's mouth curves into a smirk. "I managed to get the better of him this time, and we left him marooned at the last port."
The nearest port Will knows of is Tortuga, where Elizabeth lives. He frowns slightly. "You haven't by any chance seen Elizabeth at all, have you?"
"Why yes indeed I have! She seems to have acquired a small child. Don't ask me how that happened. They both seem to be doing jolly well. Just got back from a bit of a trip with Anamaria, of all people, if you must know. I stop by every now and then. It is admittedly very convenient having one woman to turn to who doesn't slap me."
"You're not corrupting my son, are you? I shall have to press-gang you if you are."
"Little William? Certainly not! Having a bit of trouble coming up with what to call him, though. With three Williams in a row, and all of them alive, names are a bit hard to come by. It surely is a mark of piracy in your family that the three of you all share the same name. We pirates certainly are an unimaginative lot."
Will pulls from his pocket a heavy envelope and hands it to Jack. "Will you give this to her, next time you see her? And give her my love."
Jack makes a face at the last bit, but takes the letter and safely tucks it away. "I see they shall have to add 'impersonating an officer of the Royal Mail' to my repertoire."
------
Jack has been left in Tortuga three times within the past year, Barbossa once. Every time it happens, Jack shows up at Elizabeth's door for a free meal and lodgings for the night. Every time, he has brought Elizabeth a letter from Will and leaves with one in return.
When Jack arrives a forth time, Elizabeth says nothing, but gives him a dirty look as she makes the meal she is cooking larger (he always seems to turn up just as she is cooking). As Elizabeth gets lunch prepared this time, Jack goes into the other room to play with William.
"Did you bring me anything, Uncle Jack?" William asks, giving his mother's old friend a hopeful, shy, angelic smile.
"As it happens," Jack says, reaching to his pocket for whatever is making it bulge slightly, "I do indeed have a bag of candies for you."
William gives a cheer and takes the bag, popping one in his mouth before giving a wary look to the kitchen door. If his mother knew that he was eating candies before a meal, she'd be furious. He sucks on the candy as slyly he can, dribbling a small trail of browning spittle down his chin. "It tastes odd, Uncle Jack. What is it?"
Jack's grin widens and his eyes sweep about the room before flickering back to William. His voice drops. "That, my darling miniature little William, is rum candy. It is made with a truly excellent beverage I hold most exalted above all others. However, should your lovely charming mother ever find out that what I have given you is not candies but indeed RUM candies, then poor Uncle Jackie's body will be floating dead in the Spanish Main, and you shall have all the wrath of Heaven and Hell bearing down on your tiny little body. And we don't want that happening, now, do we?"
William does not know much about rum, except that his mother curses it when she thinks he can't hear and won't let him drink it. He shakes his head furiously.
"Excellent, my cleverly cunning little friend. Clearly, this candy is molasses." Jack winks.
Just then, Elizabeth comes through the door, wiping her hands on her apron. "Lunch is ready," she announces, then narrows her eyes at William, who is looking guilty as he shoves a small, nondescript bulging brown sack behind him. "William Turner, are you eating candies before a meal again? You will go outside right now and spit that out, and then you will come in and wash up for a proper meal."
William, looking greatly abashed and still a bit guilty, rushes off, the sack clutched tightly in his hands. Elizabeth doesn't see it until much later, when she is pulling the weeds up from the path behind the house again and finds it shoved into a bush. She turns to Jack and frowns at him. "And you--" She jabs Jack in the chest with her finger. "You are to stop circumventing my authority. You are bound and determined to ruin everything I do, aren't you, Jack?"
Jack shrugs and grins. "Can't help it, luv. It's what I do. Pirate and all that." He pulls from his pocket another of the many thick parchment envelopes she has received over the years and hands it to her. "Will is using me as post boy again and, as is per usual, sends his love."
Elizabeth holds the letter to her chest and smiles.
------
It is always a great, jolting shock when Will comes across someone he has known. When his blacksmith master showed up ("They threw me into the water, William. Didn't do nothin' wrong, but they said I has connections with pirates, see, and they drowned me. Don't seem so important now. Silly thing to die for, eh?"), Will realized that he would never really be able to detach himself from his job. He lives in a sort of muted, fuzzy fear that he might one day find his mother's soul. It's a ridiculously irrational fear--his mother died in Glasgow, after all, sick and wasting away and moaning for her husband. But so many familiar faces pass by that he cannot help but wonder.
Then one day, a well-dressed, blank-faced gentleman is hauled aboard. The shock Will feels at seeing Cutler Beckett is greater even than when Norrington joined them. Norrington, who stands only a few feet behind Beckett, with his hand on his sword and a look of complete and utter loathing on his face.
Beckett looks up at Will, and there is a brief flash of recognition before the man's face is smooth as parchment again. "Ah," he says, his voice oddly distant as the ghosts' voices tend to be, "William Turner. Captain of the Dutchman now, I see."
"Yes," Will says. His voice is oddly devoid of any of the wrenching, gut-twisting disgust he feels as he looks at this small man. It's only good that Calypso took Davy Jones, body and soul; Will does not think he would be able to look his predecessor in the eye. "I've taken the duty Jones should have been doing. It's my job to ferry souls to the afterlife."
"Ferryman of the dead," Beckett says. "Like Charon. I suppose it's the Locker for me. My business ventures must be completely falling apart. Funny, it no longer matters anymore. World domination. Seems like a silly thing to die for now."
It takes all Will's mental strength to keep calm. "As much as I would love to send you to the Locker," Will says, with a touch of steeliness to his voice now, "I make it a habit of not following in Jones's footsteps. As tempting as it is, I will not be lowering myself to your level.
There is almost nearly a faint hint of a half smile around the corners of Beckett's mouth. "No," he says vaguely. "Business doesn't suit you."
"No," Will agrees, "it certainly does not."
------
Elizabeth has taught William sea shanties and mariners' legends: About the sea goddess Calypso who fell in love with a mortal, cursed treasures and waterfalls at the end of the world. He spends hours down by the docks, watching the boats with wide-eyed fascination. He swings sticks around with ships' boys, playing at swordfights. Watching him, Elizabeth swells with pride that overlays sharp pains in her heart. Her son becomes more like his father with each passing day.
William knows very little about his father. He knows that he is the captain of a ship; that he was a pirate once (William believes that he still is); that talking about him makes William's mother very sad. Visits from Bootstrap are rarer than visits from Jack, but they bring with them the sense that he has a bigger family out in the great wide world (which to William cannot be very big, because he has known very little outside Tortuga).
But it is the pain he sees under his mother's smile that makes him hesitate to ask for the full story. He has spent eight years listening and wondering and mustering the courage. One night, as Elizabeth sits mending a pair of his worn breaches, William looks up at her from his toy boats on the floor. She does not notice him until he speaks.
"Mum..." His voice is hesitant, with a slight quiver. "Mum, where's Dad?"
Elizabeth looks up, surprised. She hasn't avoided the subject with William, but she has never told him the whole story before. He has always been too young before, and soon the excuses were piling up. But he is now eight, with a sharp, intuitive mind that understands more than she has been able to realize before. So she puts down her mending and tells him: She tells him about her crossing from England and meeting Will; about meeting Jack Sparrow and the sack of Port Royal; about the immortal crew of the Black Pearl and the breaking of the Aztec gold curse; about an interrupted wedding and a hunt for the heart of Davy Jones; about the Kraken and her own horrible betrayal; about Jack's rescue from the Locker and being made Pirate King; about releasing Calypso and the final battle against the East India Trading Company; and, finally, about the death of William Turner, and his immortality and curse on the Flying Dutchman.
"But he'll be back," she says, her cheeks flushed and rosy. "He'll come, next year, and then the curse will be broken and then we'll all be together as a family. And he is so, so proud of you, William. He loves you so much."
William understands, and he loves his father very much, too.
------
Elizabeth and William take the curving path down to the beach. The evening is beautifully balmy, with a pleasant, cooling breeze, heavy with the scents of exotic Caribbean fruits and flowers. The air is heavy with the sounds of animal life, like some choral song, and William sings almost in tune: "Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me..." Elizabeth takes his hand and squeezes it, and he squeezes in return. His face is flushed with his shy, subdued excitement.
When they reach the edge of the forest, they are both already barefoot, the sand squishing between their toes. As they move towards the tide line, Elizabeth stops and draws in a breath, her hand slipping from William's grasp. Silhouetted against the setting sun, Will is standing at the end of the shore, water lapping around his legs. Ten years overcome Elizabeth's steady composure, and she bolts across the remaining distance and flings herself into Will's arms, which lift her up and spin her before drawing her close. Seeing his parents together, William feels a completeness settle over him.
"William," Elizabeth calls. "Come say hello to your father."
Nervous and bashful, William walks towards the water, and is met halfway by his father. He cuts a tall, imposing figure to William's young eyes, but his face is warm and kind. "Hallo," William says anxiously. Then, belatedly, he adds, "Dad."
Will's smile, if possible, grows even bigger and more blindingly bright. He leans down and scoops William up, hugging him to his chest with one arm, keeping Elizabeth drawn in close with the other. "Hello, William," Will says. "I'm home."
------
Three thousand, six hundred and fifty days. Eighty-seven thousand, six hundred hours. Five million, two hundred fifty-six thousand minutes. Three hundred fifteen million, three hundred sixty thousand seconds. How do you measure, measure ten years?
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Fin.
Title: Ten-Year Century
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Character(s): Will (Sr.), Elizabeth, William (Jr.), Norrington, Bootstrap, Jack, Anamaria, Beckett
Pairing(s): Will/Elizabeth
Rating: T (implications of sex, alcohol use, etc.)
Word Count: 3767
A/N: My sister asuka-chan wrote a line or two of dialogue throughout here. She has a plucky habit of taking my computer from me and doing whatever she wants. Rum candy is also TOTALLY her fault.
There is a subtle tribute to Star Wars in here, in honor of the anniversary. See if you can find it!
Thanks to mari-isms and babbling_tomato for betaing.
Will can feel the curse inside him. It cuts into his bones, little tendrils wrapping around his immortal flesh like the frigid cold waters of the north.
He has spent the day committing every detail of Elizabeth, of their hours together, to memory: the fit of her body and heat of her skin against his, the whisper of her voice in his hair, the feeling of the sand below them and the sun beating down from above. The images and sensations will haunt him for the years to come.
But the sun is setting, and in the place where his heart used to be, the Dutchman is steadily beating, calling him back out to the open seas. He has a duty now, the price he must pay for what has been done. He gives Elizabeth his heart in truth now, and when she flies into his arms, he tries to make one final kiss last ten years.
------
When Elizabeth first realizes she is pregnant, she weeps bitterly. Will would not be there to hold her hand through the agonizing throes of labor, to see their child take its first breath or teach it to walk and talk and sing little sea shanties. She spends the first mornings heaving and heaving until there is nothing left to heave, and still her stomach muscle contracts and she is horribly, revoltingly miserable.
But there is a small spark of happiness in her that just one day has brought forth this, and that she will be a mother. That tiny spark roars into a raging firestorm of joy and love when the midwife gently nestles her newborn son into her arms. He is wailing and red-faced, but his hair is dark and thick, and when she suckles him, she is rewarded with a glimpse of large, dark brown eyes. She will be the one to teach him to walk and talk and sing sea shanties (and God forbid Jack should come around to teach him to curse and drink rum), and when Will sees him, his heart will swell with the same pride and love she feels.
------
Guiding souls is gruesome, melancholy work, and while Will slowly detaches himself from seeing so many dead, there is still a part of him that pains at every blank expression, every bloated face, every wounded body. He is unendingly compassionate, and the crew find him to be a more than able captain and an endearing soul.
He is shocked from his reserve one day to find, sitting before him, James Norrington. Bootstrap gives Will horribly guilt-filled looks, and soon he and the commodore/pirate/admiral are sharing stories over flagons of rum (Will blames Jack entirely for getting him to drink it). When the drink is gone, Will leans back against the rail and crosses his ankles, watching Norrington thoughtfully.
"I've no idea as to what to do with you, James Norrington," he says. "You effectively told Davy Jones that you don't fear death, and yet I'm too much of a damned sentimental fool to quietly send faces from my past away. If Elizabeth's father were here, I'd take him aboard, useless as he probably is on a ship."
"Jones was a cruel man," Norrington replies. "And while I have fully given myself over to my fate, I still dearly love the sea. Admittedly, the idea of serving under a pirate is repugnant, but I would sail under you, Mister Turner. At least for a little while, if you'll have me."
Will smiles and holds out his hand. "Welcome to the Dutchman, Mister Norrington."
------
When Bootstrap Bill Turner shows up for the first time, Elizabeth gets such a shock that her heart nearly joins Will's in the Dead Man's Chest. He does not stay long, and William hides behind doorjambs and his mother's skirts, peering up with intense, wide-eyed curiosity.
"I feel older than ever," Bootstrap remarks, looking down at William. "Me--a grandfather! I don't think I'd ever thought it in all my wildest imaginings."
Elizabeth only smiles and asks, won't he stay for dinner? But Bootstrap declines. "When we are near enough the odd port town, William sends me out to inquire about a Missus Turner. He especially seemed to think you might be here in Tortuga." He grins. "It's quite some news for him. He'll be very happy to hear."
Elizabeth's eyes are sad, and her smile dwindles slightly. "How is he?"
"Well enough, as can be expected. Healthy and hale, though, which is exactly as everyone wants him. And I have a letter here from him." He pulls from his pocket a thick parchment envelope, and Elizabeth takes it, her hands trembling.
"Thank you." She looks at it, quiet and thoughtful. "I didn't expect--oh, it's silly, I talk to him in my mind all the time--but I haven't been writing anything. I should have. I--" She turns to look at William, then beckons him forward. He comes, shyly, his thumb in his mouth, and Elizabeth takes a kitchen knife and slices a lock of thick, glossy brown curls from his head. She tears the flap from the envelope, wrapping the hair in it, and then ties it with twine before handing it to her father-in-law. "Could you give this to him, please?"
Bootstrap is solemn as he carefully takes the tiny package. "By my honor, I will."
------
In moments of respite, Will leans on the railing at the prow of the Dutchman and, taking the small lock of hair from his pocket, he holds it to his nose. He inhales deeply, and thinks he can almost nearly picture the image Bootstrap described to him: A tiny boy with a head of dark curls and great big brown eyes set under his mother's heavy curved brow, his cheeks rosy and flushed. Then the tickling of the hairs makes him sneeze, and the image is gone; all he sees and smells around him are the ever-reaching ocean and salt water.
He traces the great scar on his chest, and thinks of sitting on a dock next to Elizabeth, William between them, their feet idly treading the water. Will would lift William under his arms and dunk him, laughing, into the warm Caribbean water up to his waist. William would squeal and shriek and kick the water about until he threw a tantrum, and then Elizabeth would scold both father and son, and they would go home to change clothes and have dinner, and sit out on the front porch in the cooling air, watching the sun set and drinking lemonade.
Then one of the men calls out that he sees souls drifting off to starboard, and with a great sigh, Will tucks the dream of fatherhood carefully away in his mind before becoming captain once more.
------
It is difficult and terribly lonely for Elizabeth. Jack drops by every now and then, as does Bootstrap, but these visits are few and far between, and all she has for company is her four-year-old son. He knows very little about his father (how do you tell a child so young that his father is not around because he suffers from an immortal curse?). She longs for a companion, a confidante, a fellow woman to whom she would be able to tell her tale, but none are to be found. People in the town give her strange looks: Fearful, awed, respectful. Tortuga is a wretched hive of scum and villainy, and while many believe there is no honor among thieves, the people on this side of the law greatly revere the Pirate King--especially the one who lead the nine Lords to defeat the East India Trading Company. She finds it hard to grow close to any of them.
She is at the docks with William one day (he has his hat pulled down tightly over his head and is swinging a long piece of grass, singing to himself) when she meets, by lucky chance, Anamaria.
Anamaria is as loud and forceful as ever, but her familiar brashness is so utterly comforting and in such contrast to the placid domesticity Elizabeth has been living that she finds herself opening up for the first time in many years. Anamaria's exclamations are loud, sympathetic, and occasionally so profane that Elizabeth's hands clamp down over William's ears.
"No wonder you're rotting here! Waiting is terrible business. You know what? You need the open sea. Come out with me on a voyage or two. Bring the young lad as well, I promise it won't come to piracy. And if it does, well, none of them would dare steal from you!" Anamaria laughs heartily at this, but Elizabeth can tell she earnestly means her offer. She looks over at William to find he is paying attention, and his eyes are shining with excitement.
"Please, Mum?" he asks eagerly. "Can we please? I promise to be good."
Elizabeth smiles. The sea is in his blood, and in all likelihood, piracy is, too. "All right."
------
They are on the charted mortal seas after a shipwreck one day when the watchman spots a black-masted ship on the horizon. Grinning and feeling oddly more cheerful than he has for a while, Will has the ship hailed.
Will boards the Black Pearl to find familiar faces swarming around him, slapping him on the back and shouting and calling and laughing. Jack walks over with his usual marked swagger, feigning indifference. "William, it has been ages. Still don't look fishy yet. You're not here for my soul, are you?"
Will grins. The world could be burning down around them, and Jack would still be the same old Jack. "Not yours, no. Not unless you want to."
Jack's lip curls. "Thank you for the no doubt very kind offer, but I am more than happy to be alive."
Will laughs and glances around at the crew. "Where's Barbossa?"
"Hector seems to be operating under the delusion that the Pearl is his. Which it is not." Jack's mouth curves into a smirk. "I managed to get the better of him this time, and we left him marooned at the last port."
The nearest port Will knows of is Tortuga, where Elizabeth lives. He frowns slightly. "You haven't by any chance seen Elizabeth at all, have you?"
"Why yes indeed I have! She seems to have acquired a small child. Don't ask me how that happened. They both seem to be doing jolly well. Just got back from a bit of a trip with Anamaria, of all people, if you must know. I stop by every now and then. It is admittedly very convenient having one woman to turn to who doesn't slap me."
"You're not corrupting my son, are you? I shall have to press-gang you if you are."
"Little William? Certainly not! Having a bit of trouble coming up with what to call him, though. With three Williams in a row, and all of them alive, names are a bit hard to come by. It surely is a mark of piracy in your family that the three of you all share the same name. We pirates certainly are an unimaginative lot."
Will pulls from his pocket a heavy envelope and hands it to Jack. "Will you give this to her, next time you see her? And give her my love."
Jack makes a face at the last bit, but takes the letter and safely tucks it away. "I see they shall have to add 'impersonating an officer of the Royal Mail' to my repertoire."
------
Jack has been left in Tortuga three times within the past year, Barbossa once. Every time it happens, Jack shows up at Elizabeth's door for a free meal and lodgings for the night. Every time, he has brought Elizabeth a letter from Will and leaves with one in return.
When Jack arrives a forth time, Elizabeth says nothing, but gives him a dirty look as she makes the meal she is cooking larger (he always seems to turn up just as she is cooking). As Elizabeth gets lunch prepared this time, Jack goes into the other room to play with William.
"Did you bring me anything, Uncle Jack?" William asks, giving his mother's old friend a hopeful, shy, angelic smile.
"As it happens," Jack says, reaching to his pocket for whatever is making it bulge slightly, "I do indeed have a bag of candies for you."
William gives a cheer and takes the bag, popping one in his mouth before giving a wary look to the kitchen door. If his mother knew that he was eating candies before a meal, she'd be furious. He sucks on the candy as slyly he can, dribbling a small trail of browning spittle down his chin. "It tastes odd, Uncle Jack. What is it?"
Jack's grin widens and his eyes sweep about the room before flickering back to William. His voice drops. "That, my darling miniature little William, is rum candy. It is made with a truly excellent beverage I hold most exalted above all others. However, should your lovely charming mother ever find out that what I have given you is not candies but indeed RUM candies, then poor Uncle Jackie's body will be floating dead in the Spanish Main, and you shall have all the wrath of Heaven and Hell bearing down on your tiny little body. And we don't want that happening, now, do we?"
William does not know much about rum, except that his mother curses it when she thinks he can't hear and won't let him drink it. He shakes his head furiously.
"Excellent, my cleverly cunning little friend. Clearly, this candy is molasses." Jack winks.
Just then, Elizabeth comes through the door, wiping her hands on her apron. "Lunch is ready," she announces, then narrows her eyes at William, who is looking guilty as he shoves a small, nondescript bulging brown sack behind him. "William Turner, are you eating candies before a meal again? You will go outside right now and spit that out, and then you will come in and wash up for a proper meal."
William, looking greatly abashed and still a bit guilty, rushes off, the sack clutched tightly in his hands. Elizabeth doesn't see it until much later, when she is pulling the weeds up from the path behind the house again and finds it shoved into a bush. She turns to Jack and frowns at him. "And you--" She jabs Jack in the chest with her finger. "You are to stop circumventing my authority. You are bound and determined to ruin everything I do, aren't you, Jack?"
Jack shrugs and grins. "Can't help it, luv. It's what I do. Pirate and all that." He pulls from his pocket another of the many thick parchment envelopes she has received over the years and hands it to her. "Will is using me as post boy again and, as is per usual, sends his love."
Elizabeth holds the letter to her chest and smiles.
------
It is always a great, jolting shock when Will comes across someone he has known. When his blacksmith master showed up ("They threw me into the water, William. Didn't do nothin' wrong, but they said I has connections with pirates, see, and they drowned me. Don't seem so important now. Silly thing to die for, eh?"), Will realized that he would never really be able to detach himself from his job. He lives in a sort of muted, fuzzy fear that he might one day find his mother's soul. It's a ridiculously irrational fear--his mother died in Glasgow, after all, sick and wasting away and moaning for her husband. But so many familiar faces pass by that he cannot help but wonder.
Then one day, a well-dressed, blank-faced gentleman is hauled aboard. The shock Will feels at seeing Cutler Beckett is greater even than when Norrington joined them. Norrington, who stands only a few feet behind Beckett, with his hand on his sword and a look of complete and utter loathing on his face.
Beckett looks up at Will, and there is a brief flash of recognition before the man's face is smooth as parchment again. "Ah," he says, his voice oddly distant as the ghosts' voices tend to be, "William Turner. Captain of the Dutchman now, I see."
"Yes," Will says. His voice is oddly devoid of any of the wrenching, gut-twisting disgust he feels as he looks at this small man. It's only good that Calypso took Davy Jones, body and soul; Will does not think he would be able to look his predecessor in the eye. "I've taken the duty Jones should have been doing. It's my job to ferry souls to the afterlife."
"Ferryman of the dead," Beckett says. "Like Charon. I suppose it's the Locker for me. My business ventures must be completely falling apart. Funny, it no longer matters anymore. World domination. Seems like a silly thing to die for now."
It takes all Will's mental strength to keep calm. "As much as I would love to send you to the Locker," Will says, with a touch of steeliness to his voice now, "I make it a habit of not following in Jones's footsteps. As tempting as it is, I will not be lowering myself to your level.
There is almost nearly a faint hint of a half smile around the corners of Beckett's mouth. "No," he says vaguely. "Business doesn't suit you."
"No," Will agrees, "it certainly does not."
------
Elizabeth has taught William sea shanties and mariners' legends: About the sea goddess Calypso who fell in love with a mortal, cursed treasures and waterfalls at the end of the world. He spends hours down by the docks, watching the boats with wide-eyed fascination. He swings sticks around with ships' boys, playing at swordfights. Watching him, Elizabeth swells with pride that overlays sharp pains in her heart. Her son becomes more like his father with each passing day.
William knows very little about his father. He knows that he is the captain of a ship; that he was a pirate once (William believes that he still is); that talking about him makes William's mother very sad. Visits from Bootstrap are rarer than visits from Jack, but they bring with them the sense that he has a bigger family out in the great wide world (which to William cannot be very big, because he has known very little outside Tortuga).
But it is the pain he sees under his mother's smile that makes him hesitate to ask for the full story. He has spent eight years listening and wondering and mustering the courage. One night, as Elizabeth sits mending a pair of his worn breaches, William looks up at her from his toy boats on the floor. She does not notice him until he speaks.
"Mum..." His voice is hesitant, with a slight quiver. "Mum, where's Dad?"
Elizabeth looks up, surprised. She hasn't avoided the subject with William, but she has never told him the whole story before. He has always been too young before, and soon the excuses were piling up. But he is now eight, with a sharp, intuitive mind that understands more than she has been able to realize before. So she puts down her mending and tells him: She tells him about her crossing from England and meeting Will; about meeting Jack Sparrow and the sack of Port Royal; about the immortal crew of the Black Pearl and the breaking of the Aztec gold curse; about an interrupted wedding and a hunt for the heart of Davy Jones; about the Kraken and her own horrible betrayal; about Jack's rescue from the Locker and being made Pirate King; about releasing Calypso and the final battle against the East India Trading Company; and, finally, about the death of William Turner, and his immortality and curse on the Flying Dutchman.
"But he'll be back," she says, her cheeks flushed and rosy. "He'll come, next year, and then the curse will be broken and then we'll all be together as a family. And he is so, so proud of you, William. He loves you so much."
William understands, and he loves his father very much, too.
------
Elizabeth and William take the curving path down to the beach. The evening is beautifully balmy, with a pleasant, cooling breeze, heavy with the scents of exotic Caribbean fruits and flowers. The air is heavy with the sounds of animal life, like some choral song, and William sings almost in tune: "Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me..." Elizabeth takes his hand and squeezes it, and he squeezes in return. His face is flushed with his shy, subdued excitement.
When they reach the edge of the forest, they are both already barefoot, the sand squishing between their toes. As they move towards the tide line, Elizabeth stops and draws in a breath, her hand slipping from William's grasp. Silhouetted against the setting sun, Will is standing at the end of the shore, water lapping around his legs. Ten years overcome Elizabeth's steady composure, and she bolts across the remaining distance and flings herself into Will's arms, which lift her up and spin her before drawing her close. Seeing his parents together, William feels a completeness settle over him.
"William," Elizabeth calls. "Come say hello to your father."
Nervous and bashful, William walks towards the water, and is met halfway by his father. He cuts a tall, imposing figure to William's young eyes, but his face is warm and kind. "Hallo," William says anxiously. Then, belatedly, he adds, "Dad."
Will's smile, if possible, grows even bigger and more blindingly bright. He leans down and scoops William up, hugging him to his chest with one arm, keeping Elizabeth drawn in close with the other. "Hello, William," Will says. "I'm home."
------
Three thousand, six hundred and fifty days. Eighty-seven thousand, six hundred hours. Five million, two hundred fifty-six thousand minutes. Three hundred fifteen million, three hundred sixty thousand seconds. How do you measure, measure ten years?
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Fin.