POTC fic: "Veritas In Taedio"
Title: Veritas In Taedio (Truth in Weariness)
Co-written by: metalkatt and veronica_rich
Rating: PG
Pairing: Jack/Will
Disclaimer: These characters are not ours, nor do we earn a profit from their depiction. We just do it for fun and mental floss.
Summary: As most of the pirates celebrate their victory at Shipwreck Cove, two others watch wearily from the sidelines.
A/N: Post-AWE, alternate universe (AU) latter half of the movie. The wedding aboard the Black Pearl never took place, as Will and Elizabeth were too busy fighting and trying not to die, and events also happened slightly differently aboard the Flying Dutchman, as Bill managed to save his son and stab the heart of Davy Jones.
Wandering alone was hardly where anyone would’ve expected to find Jack Sparrow. He wasn’t in the mood for arm ornaments this night … and, at any rate, the women of Shipwreck Cove weren’t as easy as in rest of the world. Others might be romanticized by his legend, but it’s not easy to attain such status among people who remember you as a scrawny child without so much as a scraggly beard, and still see your old man as The Law.
Jack approached the familiar silhouette from the back, slowing his steps, watching the man shift as he leaned against the wall, watching the others in the room. He'd been amused by Will Turner at one time, as a teacher is with a highly adaptive pupil who nonetheless refuses to do as instructed. He must’ve arrived at the celebration in the past hour, as the sun hadn’t been long behind the horizon. When Jack had last seen Will, it had been from a distance, standing at the water’s edge with Bill - they’d had a lifetime of problems to work out before sunset called Bill back to his new captaincy.
The people in front of him seemed to fascinate Will. Jack guessed he saw what they'd done as a curious adventure, but it was over, and he was probably wondering what would become of them all now. The celebrants seemed to have no idea that there was even a future for which to plan. They drank, they danced - well, it was becoming more like flailing, with liquor and fatigue - they told bawdy jokes, and appeared to give no thought to what might happen next. Will himself had become ... intriguing, to say the least, with his mutiny and the strain on his relationship with the lovely Miss Swann, and the marked difference between the half-boy Jack had left upon his death and the man he'd found when they showed up to rescue him.
He stepped closer and guessed the noise had reached Will's ears, for he turned when Jack was only a few steps away. "Hell of a day," Jack murmured, lowering his chin.
Will let out a wry chuckle, dipping his head in agreement. "That, I think, is indisputable."
Jack did what he did best, and moved into Will's personal space. "Your back still hurt?"
"Still stings a bit every so often," he admitted. "But that’s been a long time ago."
Hoping he wouldn't be knocked back on his ass, he slid a hand up to cup Will's jaw and kissed him, quickly and hard, just as he once had in what seemed another world, but was only a few days ago on the Pearl - before shoving him overboard. Jack cut it off after a few seconds, but didn't pull away - instead, he kept his mouth halfway open, lingering an inch away from those lips, letting the side of his nose brush Will's as his fingers idly moved over his cheek.
Will blinked for a few moments, but looked tired, like a match that had been burned through. He tipped his chin up just enough to buss his broad nose along Jack's and resealed their mouths. Jack slid both hands up into that hair, that gloriously curly, thick hair, hungrily eating the kisses, one after the other, for a couple of minutes. "I don't know what I see in you," he admitted through quick breaths. "You never listen … don't like anything 'bout my life … have a dozen stone of emotional weight you carry 'round ..."
"Being venerated gets tiring after awhile," Will replied, nipping at Jack's lips. He'd set his mug in an alcove, and his fingers curled tight in the pirate's sash, holding him in place. "I don't take your bullshit and don't let you charm your way out of anything. You crave that."
"How do y'know what I want?" he ground out in return.
"I just told you, I see past your bullshit." Will shook his head. "I don't see the great Captain Sparrow, I see Jack, the tricksy, puckish man who has a queer sense of humor."
Jack’s playfulness wavered, and he frowned a little, trying not to ruin the moment and failing. "I did things to you," he finally articulated, "things ... I'm not partic'larly proud of."
"No shit," Will deadpanned, pursing his lips in a frown. "If I thought you were proud of it, we wouldn't be standing here having this conversation."
He kissed Will's chin, unable to resist, peeling lips brushing old stubble. "I didn't really intend to abandon you," he tried explaining. "It was a plan ... didn't go th' way I thought." He sighed. "I panicked. That hobgoblin's always scared th' shit out of me."
"I could tell; you've never acted so much the abject coward, not even with Anamaria." Will smiled at his own gibe, then shook his head. "It's a bit different when you have a walking, talking corpse on your ass, I'm sure. I'll hit you for it later."
Jack closed his eyes and tilted his forehead to the bridge of Will's nose, feeling the other man's breath ruffle his moustache. "Figures you'd want to draw out th' punishment."
Will sighed heavily, tightening his fingers to draw Jack closer to him. "I'm sure it's easier for you to think so. The truth of the matter is that right now, after all the shit we've gone through lately, I simply do not care. I don't have enough left in me to care right now. Hell, maybe that makes me a bad person, I don't know. I just can't muster up enough to make it make a difference."
"So you're not angry? Tough to believe that," challenged Jack.
"Right now, no. I'm sure I'll be angry later." Will shook his head and leaned back, pressing his shoulders into the wall.
Jack recognized this was his golden moment. "In that case ... how d' you feel about joining up? I don't have much crew left, and could use a good sword arm."
Will shrugged. "Sure, what the hell? I'll sign for a year, see if I like it, hate it, or end up dead."
He sounded uncharacteristically numb. Leaning in, Jack kissed him again, trying to provoke a reaction, pressing himself against the man. Will responded, hooking an ankle around the back of one of Jack's, and took to examining Jack's teeth. Jack wondered if he should pull away, try to talk the kid out of this - after all, he did feel somewhat guilty for some of the things he'd done. Some. But that tongue felt too good brushing his lips.
"What's wrong?" Will asked, mouth still against Jack's.
He ignored the question, lips still working for a moment - before sighing and pulling back. "I have a fucking conscience," he growled, shaking his head. "Damned inconvenient for a pirate."
"How much more alcohol do you need to shut it up until tomorrow?"
"Ohhh, don't do that." Jack held up a warning finger. "You started the day still cow-eyed over th' merry murderess. This is how I work, not you."
"I need two more tankards," Will continued as if he hadn't heard. "I don't know your levels."
He laughed, not entirely amused. "William, come on. This isn't you."
"What is me, then?" When Jack challenged him, it always seemed put Will’s back up, but he managed to sound calm now, even so. "Being the good boy? Being the perfect one? What good does it get me? We all have to compromise, Jack," he sighed. "I guess this is just my time to learn it."
"Look, son-” He thought better of invoking that on someone whose tongue he’d been swallowing. “You have principles. And that's not a bad thing, all right?" Jack turned away, pacing a few steps before whirling back to face Will. "You're steady, and you have a good head when it's not burnin' up with fool rashness. That’s what's going t' get you through th' world, not being perfect. Isn’t any such thing, anyway."
Will turned halfway and waved a hand out toward the pub proper where everyone, Elizabeth included, was celebrating the fact that they all still had their lives. "For once, I'd just like to be normal."
Jack nearly barked out a laugh at that, feeling a genuine expression of humor steal over his lips. "Neither of us is that; it's one of the few things you an' I have in common."
"I know," Will sighed flatly. He turned back to Jack with a wry look. "Which is why we are here, and not in there."
He studied Will - the dark half circles under his eyes, the new hardness in those deep brown eyes, the weariness of another layer of adulthood settling over him. It wasn't a bad look, actually - Will Turner wore responsibility well. "Are you really interested in sailin' aboard the Pearl?"
"I'll try it for a year." The smith nodded, and the brown curls that he had loosed from their leather bobbed and swayed with the motion. "I don't have anywhere to go; might as well make some money while I figure out what the hell to do with the rest of my life."
At that, Jack reached for Will's hand. "No use in us bein' all alone then, is there?" he intoned quietly. "Still want those two tankards?"
"As fast as possible, yes." His lips quirked in a half-smile. "How many do you need?"
"For you?" Jack arched an eyebrow, then furrowed both, thinking. "Well, I wouldn' turn down more."
Will raised an eyebrow in challenge. "I'm sure you can make me forget my own name. Question is, will you respect yourself in the morning?"
"Will you?" It wasn't an idle question; Jack didn’t need Will questioning himself in the middle of a crisis. Besides, self-hate and self-pity didn’t fit the man.
Several seconds passed as Will pondered the question. "After all the stuff we've dealt with this time, I'm pretty damn sure I'll have no problem with it."
He shrugged and Jack grinned, and he tugged Will into the tavern, not asking if his newest crewmember would respect his new captain in the morning. They'd both lost a great deal for so long, and Jack just wanted a night where he'd gain something, for a change.
Co-written by: metalkatt and veronica_rich
Rating: PG
Pairing: Jack/Will
Disclaimer: These characters are not ours, nor do we earn a profit from their depiction. We just do it for fun and mental floss.
Summary: As most of the pirates celebrate their victory at Shipwreck Cove, two others watch wearily from the sidelines.
A/N: Post-AWE, alternate universe (AU) latter half of the movie. The wedding aboard the Black Pearl never took place, as Will and Elizabeth were too busy fighting and trying not to die, and events also happened slightly differently aboard the Flying Dutchman, as Bill managed to save his son and stab the heart of Davy Jones.
Wandering alone was hardly where anyone would’ve expected to find Jack Sparrow. He wasn’t in the mood for arm ornaments this night … and, at any rate, the women of Shipwreck Cove weren’t as easy as in rest of the world. Others might be romanticized by his legend, but it’s not easy to attain such status among people who remember you as a scrawny child without so much as a scraggly beard, and still see your old man as The Law.
Jack approached the familiar silhouette from the back, slowing his steps, watching the man shift as he leaned against the wall, watching the others in the room. He'd been amused by Will Turner at one time, as a teacher is with a highly adaptive pupil who nonetheless refuses to do as instructed. He must’ve arrived at the celebration in the past hour, as the sun hadn’t been long behind the horizon. When Jack had last seen Will, it had been from a distance, standing at the water’s edge with Bill - they’d had a lifetime of problems to work out before sunset called Bill back to his new captaincy.
The people in front of him seemed to fascinate Will. Jack guessed he saw what they'd done as a curious adventure, but it was over, and he was probably wondering what would become of them all now. The celebrants seemed to have no idea that there was even a future for which to plan. They drank, they danced - well, it was becoming more like flailing, with liquor and fatigue - they told bawdy jokes, and appeared to give no thought to what might happen next. Will himself had become ... intriguing, to say the least, with his mutiny and the strain on his relationship with the lovely Miss Swann, and the marked difference between the half-boy Jack had left upon his death and the man he'd found when they showed up to rescue him.
He stepped closer and guessed the noise had reached Will's ears, for he turned when Jack was only a few steps away. "Hell of a day," Jack murmured, lowering his chin.
Will let out a wry chuckle, dipping his head in agreement. "That, I think, is indisputable."
Jack did what he did best, and moved into Will's personal space. "Your back still hurt?"
"Still stings a bit every so often," he admitted. "But that’s been a long time ago."
Hoping he wouldn't be knocked back on his ass, he slid a hand up to cup Will's jaw and kissed him, quickly and hard, just as he once had in what seemed another world, but was only a few days ago on the Pearl - before shoving him overboard. Jack cut it off after a few seconds, but didn't pull away - instead, he kept his mouth halfway open, lingering an inch away from those lips, letting the side of his nose brush Will's as his fingers idly moved over his cheek.
Will blinked for a few moments, but looked tired, like a match that had been burned through. He tipped his chin up just enough to buss his broad nose along Jack's and resealed their mouths. Jack slid both hands up into that hair, that gloriously curly, thick hair, hungrily eating the kisses, one after the other, for a couple of minutes. "I don't know what I see in you," he admitted through quick breaths. "You never listen … don't like anything 'bout my life … have a dozen stone of emotional weight you carry 'round ..."
"Being venerated gets tiring after awhile," Will replied, nipping at Jack's lips. He'd set his mug in an alcove, and his fingers curled tight in the pirate's sash, holding him in place. "I don't take your bullshit and don't let you charm your way out of anything. You crave that."
"How do y'know what I want?" he ground out in return.
"I just told you, I see past your bullshit." Will shook his head. "I don't see the great Captain Sparrow, I see Jack, the tricksy, puckish man who has a queer sense of humor."
Jack’s playfulness wavered, and he frowned a little, trying not to ruin the moment and failing. "I did things to you," he finally articulated, "things ... I'm not partic'larly proud of."
"No shit," Will deadpanned, pursing his lips in a frown. "If I thought you were proud of it, we wouldn't be standing here having this conversation."
He kissed Will's chin, unable to resist, peeling lips brushing old stubble. "I didn't really intend to abandon you," he tried explaining. "It was a plan ... didn't go th' way I thought." He sighed. "I panicked. That hobgoblin's always scared th' shit out of me."
"I could tell; you've never acted so much the abject coward, not even with Anamaria." Will smiled at his own gibe, then shook his head. "It's a bit different when you have a walking, talking corpse on your ass, I'm sure. I'll hit you for it later."
Jack closed his eyes and tilted his forehead to the bridge of Will's nose, feeling the other man's breath ruffle his moustache. "Figures you'd want to draw out th' punishment."
Will sighed heavily, tightening his fingers to draw Jack closer to him. "I'm sure it's easier for you to think so. The truth of the matter is that right now, after all the shit we've gone through lately, I simply do not care. I don't have enough left in me to care right now. Hell, maybe that makes me a bad person, I don't know. I just can't muster up enough to make it make a difference."
"So you're not angry? Tough to believe that," challenged Jack.
"Right now, no. I'm sure I'll be angry later." Will shook his head and leaned back, pressing his shoulders into the wall.
Jack recognized this was his golden moment. "In that case ... how d' you feel about joining up? I don't have much crew left, and could use a good sword arm."
Will shrugged. "Sure, what the hell? I'll sign for a year, see if I like it, hate it, or end up dead."
He sounded uncharacteristically numb. Leaning in, Jack kissed him again, trying to provoke a reaction, pressing himself against the man. Will responded, hooking an ankle around the back of one of Jack's, and took to examining Jack's teeth. Jack wondered if he should pull away, try to talk the kid out of this - after all, he did feel somewhat guilty for some of the things he'd done. Some. But that tongue felt too good brushing his lips.
"What's wrong?" Will asked, mouth still against Jack's.
He ignored the question, lips still working for a moment - before sighing and pulling back. "I have a fucking conscience," he growled, shaking his head. "Damned inconvenient for a pirate."
"How much more alcohol do you need to shut it up until tomorrow?"
"Ohhh, don't do that." Jack held up a warning finger. "You started the day still cow-eyed over th' merry murderess. This is how I work, not you."
"I need two more tankards," Will continued as if he hadn't heard. "I don't know your levels."
He laughed, not entirely amused. "William, come on. This isn't you."
"What is me, then?" When Jack challenged him, it always seemed put Will’s back up, but he managed to sound calm now, even so. "Being the good boy? Being the perfect one? What good does it get me? We all have to compromise, Jack," he sighed. "I guess this is just my time to learn it."
"Look, son-” He thought better of invoking that on someone whose tongue he’d been swallowing. “You have principles. And that's not a bad thing, all right?" Jack turned away, pacing a few steps before whirling back to face Will. "You're steady, and you have a good head when it's not burnin' up with fool rashness. That’s what's going t' get you through th' world, not being perfect. Isn’t any such thing, anyway."
Will turned halfway and waved a hand out toward the pub proper where everyone, Elizabeth included, was celebrating the fact that they all still had their lives. "For once, I'd just like to be normal."
Jack nearly barked out a laugh at that, feeling a genuine expression of humor steal over his lips. "Neither of us is that; it's one of the few things you an' I have in common."
"I know," Will sighed flatly. He turned back to Jack with a wry look. "Which is why we are here, and not in there."
He studied Will - the dark half circles under his eyes, the new hardness in those deep brown eyes, the weariness of another layer of adulthood settling over him. It wasn't a bad look, actually - Will Turner wore responsibility well. "Are you really interested in sailin' aboard the Pearl?"
"I'll try it for a year." The smith nodded, and the brown curls that he had loosed from their leather bobbed and swayed with the motion. "I don't have anywhere to go; might as well make some money while I figure out what the hell to do with the rest of my life."
At that, Jack reached for Will's hand. "No use in us bein' all alone then, is there?" he intoned quietly. "Still want those two tankards?"
"As fast as possible, yes." His lips quirked in a half-smile. "How many do you need?"
"For you?" Jack arched an eyebrow, then furrowed both, thinking. "Well, I wouldn' turn down more."
Will raised an eyebrow in challenge. "I'm sure you can make me forget my own name. Question is, will you respect yourself in the morning?"
"Will you?" It wasn't an idle question; Jack didn’t need Will questioning himself in the middle of a crisis. Besides, self-hate and self-pity didn’t fit the man.
Several seconds passed as Will pondered the question. "After all the stuff we've dealt with this time, I'm pretty damn sure I'll have no problem with it."
He shrugged and Jack grinned, and he tugged Will into the tavern, not asking if his newest crewmember would respect his new captain in the morning. They'd both lost a great deal for so long, and Jack just wanted a night where he'd gain something, for a change.