Disclaimer: This plotline is purely my own, and any characters or items relating to Pirates of the Caribbean belong to Disney and those affiliated with the movie. No profit is being made through the writing of this fiction.

Author's Note: As some of you may realize, this story has already been posted by a joint account owned by myself and Williz. We went by the name of Pieces Of A Story, and though we still do write, this story has been abandoned. Since I have been experiencing trouble with my other fiction, I've decided to take this fiction upon myself and continue with it on my own account, with my partner's permission, of course. There have been some slight changes made as well. Enjoy.

Of Pearls and Stars

Drops of perspiration dripped down his temple, as the handsome young man raised his arm to wipe his forehead. William Turner stood straight, setting down the hammer on the table to the right. He inspected his work on the wood planking of the front porch and let out a huffed sigh. Running a hand through his hair, he grabbed the cloth hanging on the chair and wiped his hands clean. He unrolled his white sleeves and walked back towards his cozy, middle class home.

He and his new wife of now just over a year had bought the house after they married. Of course, her father had helped Will with the finances, despite the younger man's protests, and here he was now, standing in front of the home he shared with his beautiful Elizabeth. Will could still remember the wedding, and how beautiful she had looked. The Caribbean sun beat down upon them on the sandy beaches of Port Royal as they exchanged their vows, making her eyes twinkle merrily and her skin glow. Will remembered the love they felt…how they thought it would never die.

Will shook his head to rid himself of thought of the past. He had no need to torture himself with thoughts of what had been, and what should be. What's done is done, and Will was able to accept the fact that he, and his darling Elizabeth, were not, by any means, living in marital harmony.

Upon entering the house, Will stepped into the kitchen and observed his wife prepare their evening meal. It had taken time, but eventually, Elizabeth had become skilled enough, that she was able to boast of her culinary abilities.

Elizabeth stood near the stove, chopping fresh chives from the garden for her chicken's seasoning. She quickly sprinkled some onto the cooking meat, as it was becoming too cooked to add spices. Wiping off her hands on her apron, she heard her husband come into the house, and she heard the door shut behind him. Turning her attention back to the food, she picked up a tomato and began to dry it off with a cloth. Will came in behind her, and wrapped his arms gently around her midriff. However, without a second thought, Elizabeth sidestepped him and left her husband standing there, watching her as she walked across the kitchen.

Will turned around and looked to the table. Noticing no dishes were set, he strode over the cabinets and brought out two dishes and the proper silverware. He glanced at his wife, who was stretching over the stove where his meal sizzled. With one last longing gaze, Will went to the washroom to rid himself of the dust and grime of his everyday chores.

ooo

Stepping outside after dinner, Will crossed his arms over his chest and paced the makings of their front porch slowly. He looked up at the sky and sighed, the cool Caribbean night air immediately cooling him off.

Dinner had been the usual. Not one word was exchanged. The only sounds echoing throughout the room were the clinking of their dinner forks and the ticking of the clock on the wall. Both he and Elizabeth seemed fit to concentrate very intently on the food they were eating.

The silence was consuming Will, as it always had. It was a nail in his heel, and any attempt to fix it would only drive it in deeper, ingraining it into his body. Silence is so much louder than the loudest of screams, which was what he wanted to do. Was it too horrible to even fathom that there would be conversation during dinner? Was it really that horrible that he should see fit to converse with his wife to make things better for the both if them? Will honestly had no idea what had made the idea so repulsive to Elizabeth, that she should not acknowledge the fact that he was only a few feet away from her.

And then the quarrel proceeded from there, and just as always, it resulted in tears. Of course Elizabeth would stab at his weakness and breakdown and cry, until he hugged her tight and whispered apologies into her hair. How he hated to see her cry. Then, it was back to the coldness and aversion.

Will glanced up from staring at his feet when he heard the soft whinny of a horse. There was his neighbor, Jeffrey Kingston, brushing one of his horses. Kingston looked up from the horse and grinned in Will's direction. "Well, well, well…Mr. Turner, how are we tonight?" Jeffrey asked, still grinning.

Will smiled and replied. "As good as one can be, I suppose." Not realizing the small hint of unhappiness in the younger man's tone, Mr. Kingston strode to Will slowly. "Hey, you think your wife would mind much if you came over for a drink?" Kingston clapped a friendly hand on Will's back.

"Mind? She probably wouldn't even notice," Will said, a small smile on his face for Jeff's purpose. His neighbor just laughed merrily and started guiding Will back to the Kingston home.

"Hey, Will, you hear about that draft they're sendin' out? You know, the colonies are on the uprise against Britain. Terrible stuff they're goin' through up in the mainland." He shrugged and started filling two glasses with an amber colored drink. Will stopped and looked at Jeffrey. "A draft, eh?"

"Yep. Don't know what the big deal is anyways. I mean, we outnumber 'em two to one…they don't stand a chance, poor souls. I'll tell ya one thing though; I'm not fighting that war. I've got a wife and three beautiful children to take care of." Will nodded, a far off look on his face, before changing the subject.

"So, Mr. Kingston, where's Laura? Asleep already?" Will asked, taking the glass of bourbon the older man offered and sipping it. Jeffrey laughed and said, "First of all, Will…it's Jeff, alright? And second of all, she's with her mother." He shrugged and walked over to the table with his own glass of bourbon.

"With her mother? Doing what, if I'm not prying too much?" Will asked, taking another sip of his bourbon. Jeff just shrugged. "Will, she's got her mood swings, like every woman, and when it swings one way, she'll be as happy as a lark…but God help me when it swings the other way!" Both men laughed at his comment and clinked their glasses together. Will chuckled, raising his glass to his companion.

"So how about you and the Missus, hm?" Jeff asked, still wiping the after effects of the joke from his eyes. He noticed Will gulp down the rest of his drink quickly. "Erm…mind if I make another one, friend?" Will asked, changing the subject.

"No, go right ahead." Will stood and poured himself a full glass and downed it in one gulp. "Will, somethin' wrong with you and Elizabeth?" His eyes narrowed curiously as he stood and crossed over to his friend, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"No, no…we're just—I don't know, not very intimate anymore…but that's alright. I shouldn't expect it of her after what has happened, should I? It's only natural that she should want her distance." He paused, and then sighed. "It seems as if it's affected her whole being. She… she doesn't talk to me anymore either. Not unless it's absolutely necessary." Will feigned a grin before he continued yet again. "But still… I suppose that's supposed to happen in marriage. Eventually, you just tire of each other…"

"Will, you've been married a year, for goodness sake! You can't be losing intimacy in a marriage between two young people after a year, regardless of what happened between you two!" Jeff was worried now. "Mate, if you need any advice, you know I've been married to a royal terror for ten years…believe me, that's experience." Will smiled gratefully up at his friend and went to sit down with another full glass of the alcohol.

"Aye, that is experience in itself." Will waited for Kingston to cross over to the other side of the table and sit there. "It's just, I don't know what to do anymore, Jeff. When we married, it was a beautiful and lasting thing. I was so in love with my Elizabeth…and she loved me, of course. I just—Oh, I don't know. Never mind, I should stop there." Will took a gulp of his drink and set it down again.

"Oh no you don't. Marriage is the strongest facility of love two people can have…and intimacy is important. Ah, I remember being your age, just fallen in love with Laura…you love her don't you?" Jeff sat up from his reminiscing and looked at Will critically.

Will looked down at the floor. "Yes, I do," he stated, through his teeth. He really didn't know anything about himself and Elizabeth anymore.

"Then tell her every once in awhile. That's probably the only way I can keep Laura interested in me anymore." He laughed outright and smacked Will on the back.

Will nodded and stood up, emptying the rest of the glass's contents down his throat and walking to the door. "Thanks for everything Jeff. Good advice, great advice in fact. I should leave," Will said, walking outside again and back to his house.

Jeffrey rocked back on the haunches of the chair, grinning with pride. "Saved another marriage."

ooo

Will shuffled into his home quietly, shutting the back door and walking up to his bedroom on the second floor. He tiptoed quietly up each stair, making sure not to make too much noise in case Elizabeth had already fallen asleep. She'd been going to sleep early a lot lately and she'd just be laying there every time he came into the room.

He unbuttoned his vest as he walked down the corridor to his room, and shrugged it off as he stepped inside. Elizabeth was sleeping again. He sighed and draped his vest over the chair, sitting in it and pulling off his boots. Once he finished, he walked over to the bed and looked at his wife.

Will yawned and stretched his arms over his head, before shrugging off his shirt and changing into his sleeping pants. Crossing over to the bed, he gently undid the covers and slid first one foot, then the other in.

The young man just sat there for a while, noticing that Elizabeth was still awake. She turned over on her stomach, looked at him once, and then turned back over, her back away from him.

Will reached out a hand and laid it softly on her shoulder. "Elizabeth…?" he murmured. Receiving no response, he sighed and looked down at his lap before sinking down beneath the covers. He turned over and blew out the candle, leaving the complacent couple in the dark of the night.

Elizabeth laid there, eyes wide-open, tears running down her face. She wiped at them, sniffed, and closed her eyes.

ooo

The cold bite of iron against his wrists was a familiar occurrence nowadays, he mused with the tiniest of smiles upon his face. He often praised himself on his plans, and their uncanny ability to succeed, some even done without a single drop of rum. However, Jack Sparrow was only human, albeit a super one at that, and humans do make mistakes.

Now, Jack Sparrow has made many mistakes in his past, and often, he suffered from the consequences of such. A good example would be that night he had fallen into a stupor what with having consumed so much of his beloved drink, and allowing that suspicious wench with masculine arms and a deep voice carry him up to his room. Needless to say, he wasn't able to sit properly for nearly a week.

This, he reckoned, was a very big mistake, with very big consequences. He might has well have brought it upon himself, what with being dastardly enough to attempt to pillage and plunder a fully armed English warship. What he hadn't planned on was that this ship was overloaded with hundreds of men, and even more guns to be shipped to the Americas to reinforce English camps in the war. His crew was sorely outnumbered, and their defeat was inevitable.

"Mr. Sparrow," stated a cold, cutting voice, and Jack turned his head. The man who spoke was tall, and dressed in a more ornate form of the fine suit of a naval officer of the Queen's fleet. His nose bent forward over his mouth like a bird's beak, and his pale skin stretched over his face tightly, causing his already large blue eyes to seem even larger.

"Captain Sparrow, if you please?" Jack replied warily, and the man flashed him a grim smile.

"Of course, Captain." He approached the odd man currently chained and held by two naval officers. "Do you know who I am?"

Jack squinted his eyes and made a show of studying his face and the rest of his person. "I can't say you look familiar, though there's a possibility that I have indeed threatened you before. Or perhaps I've killed a relative, or done shameful things with a certain lady friend?"

The man chuckled appreciatively. "No Captain, I dare say that we have not had the pleasure of meeting before. I am Admiral Kensington, of Her Majesties Royal Navy. It seems you've made a rather large mistake in attempted to raid my ship."

"A fact I've already come to terms with, sir. Now, shall I say my apologies, and we can both get back on our own way?" It wouldn't work. He knew it wouldn't. It was worth a try.

"Not so easily, Captain Sparrow," was Kensington's smooth reply. "You see, under normal circumstances, I lock the captain in the brig, destroy the ship, and get back to my own way." He smiled at Jack's obvious discomfort. "Though, I could not help but notice your vessel here. She's beautifully built, and it appears she'd be very useful in battle." Jack nodded his agreement fervently and Admiral Kensington continued. "I couldn't help but think of what an advantage the English fleet would have with a ship like this on our side…"

Jack regarded him quietly for a moment before he smiled coldly. "Jack Sparrow sails under no one save himself. Aye?"

Admiral Kensington's grim smile did not change. "Then it is the brig for you, I'm afriad."

ooo

Elizabeth's eyes fluttered open as the early morning rays wafted through the windows, illuminating the bedroom with a soft orange glow. Blinking the remnants of sleep from her eyes, she suppressed a stretch and turned onto her side, only to be met by the sleeping face of her husband. A small smile curved at the corners of her mouth as she observed Will bury his head further into the pillow, trying to block the beams of sunlight from fully awakening him.

Positioning her head closer to his, Elizabeth delicately reached a hand up to brush a loose strand of hair away from his eyes, and then lightly traced her fingers over Will's sleeping face. Will let out a small huff through his nose and turned his head away from her, causing a breathy laugh from the young woman. Smiling still, she gazed over his face again before biting her lip thoughtfully, and after a moment's hesitation, she lowered her lips onto the column of his throat. Elizabeth looked up at her husband's face to see if she received any reaction, and upon seeing none, she began trailing her lips up to his chin, placing a lingering kiss upon his light stubble. She raised her head slightly and peered down at Will's still form. The young woman let out an almost disheartened sigh as she lightly ran her fingers over his lips. After only a second thought, Elizabeth lowered her mouth onto his and brushed his lips. She faltered a bit, and then closed her eyes for a deeper kiss; only to have Will huff once again and gently push her away, before rolling onto his side. Elizabeth was left with empty arms, feeling rather dejected. After an aching gaze towards her still sleeping husband, she turned over and let out a heartbreaking sigh, finally sitting up and swinging her legs over to the side of the bed.

Elizabeth stood and quietly crossed to her armoire. Opening it slowly, for it tended to creak loudly, she removed one of her favorite dresses and walked behind the dresser, fitting herself into it. She tied her hair up into a stylish bun, letting a few strands fall down to brush over her face. Quickly, grabbing her sunhat, she proceeded to the bedroom door. Will stirred and yawned, barely opening his eyes wide enough to see his wife fully dressed with her hat in hand. He cleared his throat. "Where...where are you going, Elizabeth?" He asked, sitting up groggily, his bare chest uncovered by the sheets that pooled at his waist. "Out, with Laura. She invited me yesterday, don't you remember?" She tilted her head, fitting her sunhat on securely. She gave Will a longing look, making sure he saw that she wanted him to stop her and kiss her the way most husbands did. "Oh, have fun," he muttered, flopping back down against the pillows and snoring lightly. Elizabeth frowned and opened the door. "Good morning," she murmured, sullenly.

Elizabeth stepped out of the front door, shielding her eyes from the brilliant morning sun, the thin hat on her head serving no justice, when she heard her name called. Turning as she shut the door to her grand home, the young woman saw her neighbor, Laura, just stepping out of her own home.

"Good morning, Laura," Elizabeth said merrily to the older woman. "Same to you, Elizabeth," Laura Kingston said, crossing to the gate in front of the Turner home.

"Are you ready to spend all of our husbands' money?" Laura asked, chuckling. She received a giggle from her friend. "Always," Elizabeth laughed

As the two women strode through the various shops and looked at the carts, Laura happily gossiped away, while Elizabeth did most of the listening.

"And did you hear about the Millers boy? He's getting married to the Baker's daughter. Nice girl, yes, but if she eats anymore I'm afraid she'll grow larger than their cow. The girl is twice as wide as the boy is tall. And, Oh! Oh my, Elizabeth would you come look at this necklace!"

Elizabeth shook her head, amused, and followed Laura to the necklace encased in glass. The necklace glowed in the bright Caribbean sunlight through the glass window. Elizabeth's eyes went straight to the display of pearls and diamonds, arranged in a way that made her gasp. The diamonds shone bright, reminding Elizabeth of stars.

"Yes, Laura, it is a beautiful necklace," she admitted breathlessly, hardly able to take her eyes away from the stunning piece of work.

"Yes, well I'll just have to get Jeffrey to buy it for me. Or best yet, why don't you get your dear William to purchase it. Your birthday is coming up soon, isn't it?"

"Yes, in a few weeks, actually," Elizabeth replied, biting her lip lightly.

Laura looked over her critically, narrowing her eyes.

"Jeffrey tells me you and Will are having problems…"

"Problems? Laura, don't be silly," Elizabeth countered with a half-hearted laugh.

"He said that Will says things aren't very intimate between you two anymore. Now, I don't mean to be prodding, but how could a man expect a woman to be intimate after what had happened? You poor thing. Don't you think he would have a decent amount of respect? Men! All of them insensitive, oblivious... and Will! Now, I'm not very well acquainted with him, but I would expect a little more understanding on his part, and let me tell you-"

"Though I do agree, I must remind you that we are speaking of my husband," Elizabeth quickly admonished.

Laura quickly closed her mouth, not saying whatever she had in mind, and smiled apologetically towards Elizabeth.

Elizabeth turned her head towards the necklace again. That's right, their anniversary. One year of...marital bliss. She couldn't call it that, she knew. Shaking her head of her thoughts, she looked into the glass case and noticed something out of the corner of her eye. It was a bulletin. After reading the first few lines, Elizabeth's eyes grew wide, and she quickly turned and motioned for her friend to join her.

"Laura—Laura, come look at this notice," Elizabeth said, speaking quickly.

"What is it?" Laura asked, shifting her gaze to the notice. Reading it was hard for her so she had to squint. "Oh, Elizabeth—My eyes aren't as good as yours, Will you read it to me?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Citizens of Port Royal, We are unnerved to inform you of the beginnings of war in the colonies of British-America. Due to the developments of American minutemen and rebels, a draft is to be issued. Able-bodied males aged sixteen to forty years are on full notice. A summons will be sent to your homes in less than a week. Thank you for your cooperation and God save the Crown."

Laura put a hand to her mouth. "Poor boys, being sent to the colonies to fight rebels on unfamiliar lands. Well, shall we continue then, Elizabeth?" Laura started walking away, but turned back when Elizabeth hadn't moved. "Elizabeth, dear?"

The younger woman shook her head. "Oh, yes! Of course, let's." She walked after the woman and kept her eyes ahead.

The longer they walked, the more Elizabeth's thoughts would drift. A draft… able-bodied men, aged sixteen through forty years. Those thoughts reverberated through the young woman's mind over and over. At 21, Will most definitely would not be exempt from the draft. What would she do if Will were sent off to fight? How would she cope?

"…What do you think, Elizabeth? …Elizabeth?" Laura turned to Elizabeth and stopped her. "Elizabeth, are you well? You look a bit pale, dear," she said as her eyes slanted, concerned.

"No, no. I'm fine, Laura…really I am," Elizabeth said warmly, feigning a smile for her friends and neighbor. "You don't look yourself today, dear. Maybe we should call it a day and head back home, hm?" Laura started guiding the reluctant younger woman back to their homes.

When they arrived, Elizabeth invited Laura in for tea. Laura heartily agreed, but upon opening the door, they heard loud ranting in the living room.

Both women looked to each other cautiously, before proceeding to the room, Elizabeth first because it was her home. As they walked into the room, both men looked up.

Will was leaning against the wall, calmly trying to sooth his companion, who just happened to be the one ranting. Jeffrey Kingston was pacing back and forth in the room, a piece of paper clutched tightly in his hand.

"Darling, why ever in the world are you wearing a hole in the Turners' floor?" Laura asked, placing her hands on her hips.

"Here, Jeffrey. Why don't you sit down?" asked Will, motioning towards the large sofa in their living room.

"Laura, do you know what this is!" Jeffrey asked angrily, dropping himself on the couch. "A summons!" He continued without waiting for his wife's answer. "I'm being drafted!" He yelled, waving his arms around.

"To fight!" She screeched, running to his side and taking the draft from him. As Laura's eyes roved over the paper she held, Elizabeth crossed to Will's side with a questioning look. All he could do was sigh, and continue watching the alarmed couple.

"But—what of our children, Jeffrey? And, oh goodness, what if something should happen to you! What if you die!" She finished, letting her husband take her in his arms. "Now, now Laura, darling…you and I both know I'm too proud to die by some ridiculous rebel's hand!"

Will and Elizabeth shared a brief glance, sadness shining in their eyes, before she moved forward. "Laura, Jeffrey—William and I insist you stay for supper," Elizabeth said, softly. As the older couple nodded with small smiles, Elizabeth walked into the kitchen to prepare the meal.

"Laura, what do you say to a drink?" Will asked, sympathetically.

"Oh goodness, please," Laura said, wiping her eyes.

"Jeffrey?" Will asked, looking at his friend.

"Yes, thank you, Will."

With a nod, Will shuffled into the kitchen, seeing his wife poised at the counter, arms spread and head down. He shut the door quietly and walked to her. Elizabeth turned once and looked at her husband.

"Elizabeth, are you alright?" Will ambled over to stand next to her. She stood up straight and rubbed her eyes. "I'm fine," Elizabeth answered, listlessly lifting a dishrag into her hand and dropping it back on the butcher block.

"You're not fine," Will reasoned, softly.

Elizabeth's eyes watered as she choked out a half sob.

"If Jeffrey got a summons, who is to say they won't send one for you?" She asked pleadingly, wiping her face.

Will set his hands on her shoulders, leaning close to her face and kissed her forehead. "They won't, I'm sure!"

Will smiled at her, receiving a tense smile back, before preparing two drinks and walking out to their guests, followed closely by Elizabeth.

"Will, Elizabeth—We're sorry, but I hope you understand…Laura and I can't stay for dinner," Jeffrey said, an arm around his wife's shoulders.

"We understand, Jeffrey." Will smiled and set down the drinks on the coffee table. "Well, Elizabeth…" Laura crossed to Elizabeth and gave her a friendly hug. "…I had a wonderful time today whilst shopping!"

"As did I, Laura!" Elizabeth hugged back. When they broke away, she added, "Some time soon, then?"

"Of course!" Laura took her husband's hand as the Turners walked the Kingstons to the front door.

"Well, thank you for the hospitality Will. You're a true friend. See you tomorrow?" Jeffrey and Will shook hands, before Jeffrey and his wife walked out.

"Count on it," Will answered, shutting the door and locking it as they left.

Both husband and wife glanced each other's way and sighed. "A draft. My God, why would they send a draft to Port Royal?" Elizabeth asked, moving back into the living room and throwing herself tiredly at the couch.

Will walked in after her and sat opposite.

"It couldn't be as horrible as all that. To send a draft all the way out here to Jamaica must mean those revolutionaries aren't as inept as once thought," Will said, leaning back and closing his eyes.

"They probably fight with barbaric tactics, who knows?" Elizabeth sat up and took one of the drinks into her hands. Will took the other one and downed it.

"Frankly, I'm tired of all this draft and war nonsense…" Will started, setting down his glasses again. Elizabeth took a sip and set her drink down after.

"William, we must speak of this!" She looked down at the floor and shook her head. "What shall happen to either of us if you're forced out to America, Will?" Elizabeth found herself unable to look at her husband.

"I don't know," was all he said.