Title: Journey Beyond the Past
Author: Kendra
Rating: R
Pairing: Will Turner/OFC
Archive: Please ask first
Disclaimer: I own nothing, am just there for the visit. The Mouse owns it all.
~~*~~
The luminous echoes of heat lightning upon the water's surface quenched its fateful kiss against the midnight sky in the distance.
Etched upon many a fitful night, Will Turner stood on the small, weatherworn porch, the warm tropical breeze cooling sweat soaked skin. Bred of memories he wished to long since banish but unable to clear even the lightest inclination from his unconscious. Sleep that was uninterrupted eluded him once again this night.
Roughly raking his hands through long, sleep tousled hair, the dark-haired young man took a steadying breath, easing the burning of his lungs with tangy salt air.
It had been nearly two years. Two years and yet the loss, the memories, the pain, were still as gripping now, as they were when brought to fruition. The day his world was torn from beneath his feet-the day his beloved Elizabeth died while giving birth to his son.
That was the darkest day of memory. The day he stopped living and only existed.
No, that's not quite accurate. The moment Will Turner gave up his life, his dreams, his fire, his future, was the moment Governor Swann fled Port Royal with his infant grandson, sailing back to England without mercy or note given to the child's father-Will Turner.
~~*~~
Catherine Kent had spent more than enough time in Port Royal to realize that if she did not move quickly, she would forfeit her future. It would be either the Crown or the disreputable that would lay claim to the only income her late husband had left to the young woman after his untimely death.
Pushing open the shutters of the inn's room in which she now stayed, Catherine glanced to the docks below and spied the 'Engloria' gently rocking on the waves, illuminated by the moon's low glow.
Sighing softly, her thin nightdress billowing gently with the incoming breeze from the harbor, the woman with hair the color of golden wheat, a smattering of barely visible freckles along the bridge of her nose due to sun exposure, watched her ship with worry. Everyone she had recently met since her arrival were either thinking she was dumb because of her sex, helpless, or an easy mark.
Catherine Kent-Hyde was none of the above. Only thrust to the forefront of a situation that was not of her making. While she tried with every breath to make the circumstances work, there seemed to always be an even bigger obstacle in her way than the time before. Now she was at her wits end and last chance, and things looked bleak.
However, there was one possible option she had left and that was a very chancy gamble. But at the moment, her hands were tied and she'd battle the Devil himself if she must.
Tomorrow morning the stubborn woman would make the trek to the far side of the island where the rocky cliffs overlooked hidden coves. Or so that is where some of the more unsavory of the island's inhabitants had whispered for her to go for the price of coin. After all, she could hardly afford to outfit a ship, let alone hire a captain and crew, but this is where they had directed her as a last resort to seek out that endeavor. Little did Catherine know, those men she had paid for their advice and help had surely thought to send her on a fool's folly for they laughed soundly after her departure.
There was one man left who might be her saving grace, but this was only in dealing with his past exploits and history-not of his current state of mind, or so she was told. All Catherine could hope for was a miracle or a pirate's greed. At this point in time, she'd take either.
~~*~~
The sun was sweltering, the winding road both hazardous and steep. Not for the first time did Catherine Kent nearly slide to her backside upon stepping on stones that were loose.
"Bloody rocks," Catherine muttered, arms flailing to keep her balance as she continued to climb the meandering path to the cottage now within her sight.
Shielding her eyes from the sun, the blonde-haired woman finally stepped into the clearing, glancing about for any signs of life, yet finding none.
Biting back the curse, which threatened to break free, she approached the cottage, stepping upon the porch then nearly falling on her backside as a loosened floorboard rocked in her wake. Turning back to see what had caused her to trip, Catherine glared momentarily at the offending item before the soft crunch of boot heel to grass made her turn suddenly in that direction.
"This is private property, Miss." A male voice uttered in annoyance. The young woman, quite startled, stepped backwards onto the loose board without thought. The movement nearly sent her tumbling backside first off the porch before strong arms quite unexpectedly clutched her about the waist, keeping her from falling from the porch onto the stony ground.
Feeling slightly flustered at making such an entrance and momentarily wishing she'd taken the advice of the innkeeper and hired an escort to accompany her up to the cottage. Catherine brushed aside the tendrils of hair that had fallen into her eyes so she could better see who exactly was helping her. Or to be more exact, who was still holding her tightly about the waist even after being lowered from the porch to solid ground.
"Thank you," she managed to reply, hoping not to sound the idiot.
It was then she got her first good look at the man who was just an arm's length away. He was tall and tanned from many a long day out in the sun. His hair, which was past his shoulders, was hap-hazardly pulled back in a leather tie. The beard he wore was one that spoke of a man who chose to shave only when the thought occurred, and from the amount of hair upon his chin and cheeks, it looked to have been a good long month since he'd seen the likes of a straight razor. But it was the eyes that made her nearly catch her breath for they were the darkest brown she'd ever seen. They almost seemed jewel-like, and hidden beneath those alluring depths was a man who looked to be drowning.
With a nod of his head, the man pulled away and it was then she noticed his hands were rough, well callused, used to hard work. "Once again, Miss, this is private property. I ask you to leave," he insisted, brushing the sweat off his brow with the cuff of his shirt which was rolled up to the elbow-as if he'd been caught in the midst of work.
"Mr. Turner? Mr. Will Turner?" Catherine questioned, but the man before her acted as if the name was of no importance to him and only turned to look at the crystalline blue water that reached as far as the eye could see.
"Who is he to you?"
Using her discarded hat, which had been removed upon her journey uphill, Catherine slowly fanned the air, hoping to cool herself even in the slightest. "I've come to proposition Captain Will Turner on a very important matter."
Chuckling lowly, the dark-haired man before her placed his hands on his hips and turned to look at the woman before him. "Miss, I don't know a Captain Will Turner, but if I did, I could completely assure you that a proposition of that nature would surely surprise even him. It's been a long time...or so I've heard, but I'm rather sure he'd never pay for a lady's...services," he grinned momentarily as Catherine blushed furiously at her foible of words.
"It is not matters of the flesh, but matters of a financial proposition in regards to a job I wish to discuss with Mr. Turner," she quickly corrected, straightening her shoulders and looking him in the eyes.
"Don't know no Will Turner," he shot back, turning to leave. "Be off with you, leave this property."
"Mr. Turner, I will pay you handsomely to captain my ship," she loudly baited. Hoping she was correct in that he truly was the man she'd sought out, and that he'd automatically stop at the calling of his name after brushing her aside-which he unconsciously did.
Bowing his head, staring at the ground for a minute, the dark-haired man still refused to look back. "I will make it well worth your time, Mr. Turner. You mention the price, I will gladly meet the offer-within reason of course," she quickly added, not quite sure if his jesting earlier was truth or lie.
"What makes you think I...even if I were this Turner fellow, would wish to go back to the life of ship's captain?"
"Because once it is in your blood it can not be denied."
"And you Miss, how are you expert in this field?" He asked, finally turning about to gauge her response.
Tilting her head slightly, shielding her eyes with her hand to look at him, Catherine's dark green gaze locked with his brown. "I know this because of my late husband. He was more married to the sea than to myself," she spoke up, only half telling the truth. No need to inform the man she wished to hire of personal matters, which struck close to her heart.
"This venture, what does it involve?"
"I need a cargo delivered immediately to the Isle of Kinset, just south..."
"I know where it lies," he interjected, stepping forward. "Just what sort of cargo are you hauling?"
This was the question Catherine Kent knew to expect, but it was also the question she dreaded. "If I tell you that it is none of your...Mr. Turner's business, then what would he say?"
Dark eyes narrowed upon the woman and he closed the gap so that she could smell the faint scent of smoke upon his body. "I would say that Will Turner would not captain any vessel that he did not know the cargo of, especially in those waters which will have to be crossed to take your ship safely into port and deliver said goods."
"Alcohol...spirits..." she answered, hoping she wasn't getting in too deep and saying too much or worse yet, too little.
Turning around, heading back to the side of the cottage where she'd first heard footfalls, the young man waved her off. "The ship..." he stated.
"I'm sorry?"
"The ship, Mr. Turner will request payment for services rendered with the ownership of your vessel," he explained, glancing over his shoulder to see the shocked expression on the woman's face. He had to give the lady her due, she was slightly reckless and careless for coming alone, for he'd seen her approach the cabin nearly an hour earlier, but she was also stubborn and full of spirit, something he'd missed for a very long time.
Chewing on her lip for the briefest of moments, Catherine thought out the request. It was her own fault after all for saying 'anything', but to get the cargo to the correct port and her payment due, it was an expensive request, but worth getting things done and off her hands after so long.
"You've...tell Mr. Turner, he has a deal. The 'Engloria' will be his upon safe delivery of cargo," she agreed, receiving a nod of acceptance before he disappeared.
"Do you wish to know when we set sail?" She shouted, hiking up her skirts and going to the side of the cottage to see the man walking towards a makeshift shed in the near distance.
"When Mr. Turner deems the timing is right!" He loudly declared right back at her, earning him a bit of a disgruntled kick of gravel from the young woman before she spun around.
"My name, do you not want to know..."
"Mr. Turner will learn your name soon enough!"
"Bloody pig-headed man!" Catherine snapped, hoping he'd heard her remark.
"Bloody woman!" Will Turner snapped aloud as he quickly lengthened the distance between the two.
~~*~~
Author: Kendra
Rating: R
Pairing: Will Turner/OFC
Archive: Please ask first
Disclaimer: I own nothing, am just there for the visit. The Mouse owns it all.
~~*~~
The luminous echoes of heat lightning upon the water's surface quenched its fateful kiss against the midnight sky in the distance.
Etched upon many a fitful night, Will Turner stood on the small, weatherworn porch, the warm tropical breeze cooling sweat soaked skin. Bred of memories he wished to long since banish but unable to clear even the lightest inclination from his unconscious. Sleep that was uninterrupted eluded him once again this night.
Roughly raking his hands through long, sleep tousled hair, the dark-haired young man took a steadying breath, easing the burning of his lungs with tangy salt air.
It had been nearly two years. Two years and yet the loss, the memories, the pain, were still as gripping now, as they were when brought to fruition. The day his world was torn from beneath his feet-the day his beloved Elizabeth died while giving birth to his son.
That was the darkest day of memory. The day he stopped living and only existed.
No, that's not quite accurate. The moment Will Turner gave up his life, his dreams, his fire, his future, was the moment Governor Swann fled Port Royal with his infant grandson, sailing back to England without mercy or note given to the child's father-Will Turner.
~~*~~
Catherine Kent had spent more than enough time in Port Royal to realize that if she did not move quickly, she would forfeit her future. It would be either the Crown or the disreputable that would lay claim to the only income her late husband had left to the young woman after his untimely death.
Pushing open the shutters of the inn's room in which she now stayed, Catherine glanced to the docks below and spied the 'Engloria' gently rocking on the waves, illuminated by the moon's low glow.
Sighing softly, her thin nightdress billowing gently with the incoming breeze from the harbor, the woman with hair the color of golden wheat, a smattering of barely visible freckles along the bridge of her nose due to sun exposure, watched her ship with worry. Everyone she had recently met since her arrival were either thinking she was dumb because of her sex, helpless, or an easy mark.
Catherine Kent-Hyde was none of the above. Only thrust to the forefront of a situation that was not of her making. While she tried with every breath to make the circumstances work, there seemed to always be an even bigger obstacle in her way than the time before. Now she was at her wits end and last chance, and things looked bleak.
However, there was one possible option she had left and that was a very chancy gamble. But at the moment, her hands were tied and she'd battle the Devil himself if she must.
Tomorrow morning the stubborn woman would make the trek to the far side of the island where the rocky cliffs overlooked hidden coves. Or so that is where some of the more unsavory of the island's inhabitants had whispered for her to go for the price of coin. After all, she could hardly afford to outfit a ship, let alone hire a captain and crew, but this is where they had directed her as a last resort to seek out that endeavor. Little did Catherine know, those men she had paid for their advice and help had surely thought to send her on a fool's folly for they laughed soundly after her departure.
There was one man left who might be her saving grace, but this was only in dealing with his past exploits and history-not of his current state of mind, or so she was told. All Catherine could hope for was a miracle or a pirate's greed. At this point in time, she'd take either.
~~*~~
The sun was sweltering, the winding road both hazardous and steep. Not for the first time did Catherine Kent nearly slide to her backside upon stepping on stones that were loose.
"Bloody rocks," Catherine muttered, arms flailing to keep her balance as she continued to climb the meandering path to the cottage now within her sight.
Shielding her eyes from the sun, the blonde-haired woman finally stepped into the clearing, glancing about for any signs of life, yet finding none.
Biting back the curse, which threatened to break free, she approached the cottage, stepping upon the porch then nearly falling on her backside as a loosened floorboard rocked in her wake. Turning back to see what had caused her to trip, Catherine glared momentarily at the offending item before the soft crunch of boot heel to grass made her turn suddenly in that direction.
"This is private property, Miss." A male voice uttered in annoyance. The young woman, quite startled, stepped backwards onto the loose board without thought. The movement nearly sent her tumbling backside first off the porch before strong arms quite unexpectedly clutched her about the waist, keeping her from falling from the porch onto the stony ground.
Feeling slightly flustered at making such an entrance and momentarily wishing she'd taken the advice of the innkeeper and hired an escort to accompany her up to the cottage. Catherine brushed aside the tendrils of hair that had fallen into her eyes so she could better see who exactly was helping her. Or to be more exact, who was still holding her tightly about the waist even after being lowered from the porch to solid ground.
"Thank you," she managed to reply, hoping not to sound the idiot.
It was then she got her first good look at the man who was just an arm's length away. He was tall and tanned from many a long day out in the sun. His hair, which was past his shoulders, was hap-hazardly pulled back in a leather tie. The beard he wore was one that spoke of a man who chose to shave only when the thought occurred, and from the amount of hair upon his chin and cheeks, it looked to have been a good long month since he'd seen the likes of a straight razor. But it was the eyes that made her nearly catch her breath for they were the darkest brown she'd ever seen. They almost seemed jewel-like, and hidden beneath those alluring depths was a man who looked to be drowning.
With a nod of his head, the man pulled away and it was then she noticed his hands were rough, well callused, used to hard work. "Once again, Miss, this is private property. I ask you to leave," he insisted, brushing the sweat off his brow with the cuff of his shirt which was rolled up to the elbow-as if he'd been caught in the midst of work.
"Mr. Turner? Mr. Will Turner?" Catherine questioned, but the man before her acted as if the name was of no importance to him and only turned to look at the crystalline blue water that reached as far as the eye could see.
"Who is he to you?"
Using her discarded hat, which had been removed upon her journey uphill, Catherine slowly fanned the air, hoping to cool herself even in the slightest. "I've come to proposition Captain Will Turner on a very important matter."
Chuckling lowly, the dark-haired man before her placed his hands on his hips and turned to look at the woman before him. "Miss, I don't know a Captain Will Turner, but if I did, I could completely assure you that a proposition of that nature would surely surprise even him. It's been a long time...or so I've heard, but I'm rather sure he'd never pay for a lady's...services," he grinned momentarily as Catherine blushed furiously at her foible of words.
"It is not matters of the flesh, but matters of a financial proposition in regards to a job I wish to discuss with Mr. Turner," she quickly corrected, straightening her shoulders and looking him in the eyes.
"Don't know no Will Turner," he shot back, turning to leave. "Be off with you, leave this property."
"Mr. Turner, I will pay you handsomely to captain my ship," she loudly baited. Hoping she was correct in that he truly was the man she'd sought out, and that he'd automatically stop at the calling of his name after brushing her aside-which he unconsciously did.
Bowing his head, staring at the ground for a minute, the dark-haired man still refused to look back. "I will make it well worth your time, Mr. Turner. You mention the price, I will gladly meet the offer-within reason of course," she quickly added, not quite sure if his jesting earlier was truth or lie.
"What makes you think I...even if I were this Turner fellow, would wish to go back to the life of ship's captain?"
"Because once it is in your blood it can not be denied."
"And you Miss, how are you expert in this field?" He asked, finally turning about to gauge her response.
Tilting her head slightly, shielding her eyes with her hand to look at him, Catherine's dark green gaze locked with his brown. "I know this because of my late husband. He was more married to the sea than to myself," she spoke up, only half telling the truth. No need to inform the man she wished to hire of personal matters, which struck close to her heart.
"This venture, what does it involve?"
"I need a cargo delivered immediately to the Isle of Kinset, just south..."
"I know where it lies," he interjected, stepping forward. "Just what sort of cargo are you hauling?"
This was the question Catherine Kent knew to expect, but it was also the question she dreaded. "If I tell you that it is none of your...Mr. Turner's business, then what would he say?"
Dark eyes narrowed upon the woman and he closed the gap so that she could smell the faint scent of smoke upon his body. "I would say that Will Turner would not captain any vessel that he did not know the cargo of, especially in those waters which will have to be crossed to take your ship safely into port and deliver said goods."
"Alcohol...spirits..." she answered, hoping she wasn't getting in too deep and saying too much or worse yet, too little.
Turning around, heading back to the side of the cottage where she'd first heard footfalls, the young man waved her off. "The ship..." he stated.
"I'm sorry?"
"The ship, Mr. Turner will request payment for services rendered with the ownership of your vessel," he explained, glancing over his shoulder to see the shocked expression on the woman's face. He had to give the lady her due, she was slightly reckless and careless for coming alone, for he'd seen her approach the cabin nearly an hour earlier, but she was also stubborn and full of spirit, something he'd missed for a very long time.
Chewing on her lip for the briefest of moments, Catherine thought out the request. It was her own fault after all for saying 'anything', but to get the cargo to the correct port and her payment due, it was an expensive request, but worth getting things done and off her hands after so long.
"You've...tell Mr. Turner, he has a deal. The 'Engloria' will be his upon safe delivery of cargo," she agreed, receiving a nod of acceptance before he disappeared.
"Do you wish to know when we set sail?" She shouted, hiking up her skirts and going to the side of the cottage to see the man walking towards a makeshift shed in the near distance.
"When Mr. Turner deems the timing is right!" He loudly declared right back at her, earning him a bit of a disgruntled kick of gravel from the young woman before she spun around.
"My name, do you not want to know..."
"Mr. Turner will learn your name soon enough!"
"Bloody pig-headed man!" Catherine snapped, hoping he'd heard her remark.
"Bloody woman!" Will Turner snapped aloud as he quickly lengthened the distance between the two.
~~*~~