This is just an idea that occurred to me recently. I hope everybody likes it, please review and tell me what you think.
Summary: Will receives bad news about Jack, and a last request from him.
Disclaimer: Sadly I don't own Will, Jack, Elizabeth, Port Royal or anything like that. I do, however, own Penelope, Emily, Samuel and Richard Stanton. I keep them locked in a closet to be at my beck and call.
Rating: PG-13 to be safe.
Warning: Nada, unless you are Will/Elizabeth fan. Then you may want to avert your eyes.
The Memoirs of Captain Jack Sparrow
On the second of February, 1768 the news of Jack Sparrow's death reached William Turner, back in Port Royal. The blacksmith had received the news from a pirate-turned-merchant friend of Jack's, who took it upon himself to tell acquaintances of the infamous pirate captain that he was deceased. Will had received a visit to the smithy from the man, who had been entrusted with Jack Sparrow's ship log books and had discovered where Will lived from several of the townsfolk. He had informed Will matter of factly, handed him a heavy, leather bound volume wrapped in hessian cloth, and left. Will was immediately sad at the thought of the confident, optimistic pirate being lost to death, but did not dwell on it. He had not seen or heard of Jack for seven years, and it made little difference to his life. Setting the book aside to read later, he went back to work, but there was something about Jack nagging at the back of his mind. Two hours later, Will was hurrying home to the small house he shared with his wife, Penelope, and their two children, Emily and Samuel.
Upon entering the house, Will braced himself. Sure enough, his little daughter hurled her three year old body at his legs, gripping one of them, then screaming in excitement as he walked in the direction of the kitchen, dragging her behind him. There was a small step from the hall to the kitchen, and Will bent down to pick up his child so that she didn't hit her head. Cuddling her gently, he looked inside the room. Penelope was at the stove, stirring the contents of a large cooking pot. Her dress was old, the green colour faded, and she wore an apron splattered with soup. Her hair was pulled into an untidy bun, and her face was shiny and red from the steam from the hot food. Hearing somebody step into the kitchen, she looked up, and smiled at seeing her husband inside the doorway. He smiled back fondly. She was an attractive woman; she was slim, yet not as slender as some of the women he knew. She had high cheekbones which flushed naturally, dark eyes which crinkled at the corners, showing sincerity when she smiled, and black hair which escaped her arrangement and hung in tendrils around her face.
"Where is he?" Will asked his wife, as she settled a lid on top of the pot and wiped her hands on her dirty apron.
"Upstairs, in the cradle. He's asleep," she added, walking towards him and giving him a kiss on the cheek. She took the little girl off him, and watched him hurry up the rickety staircase to see their baby son. Emily began to play with her mother's hair, stuffing it into her mouth, but Penelope didn't notice. There was something different about Will.
The three Turners ate dinner at seven o'clock at the kitchen table, as usual. The dining room was reserved for guests. While Penelope fed Samuel with strained oatmeal, tried to stop Emily from rubbing her dinner into her hair, and managed to eat a few mouthfuls herself, Will ate his stew in silence, engrossed in his thoughts. Between trying to feed the children and herself, Penelope stared at Will, distressed at his quietness. He was usually full of talk at the dinner table.
Later on, while Will was washing his face in the small basin in the bedroom, Penelope sat up in bed, waiting for him to join her. Conscious that he was being watched, Will was deliberately slow, and avoided meeting his wife's gaze in the stained looking- glass. Finally, he wiped his face with the rag that hung on the stand by the bowl. Will got into bed without looking at Penelope, and she sat there waiting for him to talk.
"Are you going to tell me what it is?" She asked, finally. She received no reply, and sighed. "Tell me what's wrong, Will."
"It's nothing."
"Don't tell me it's nothing. I know when something's the matter with my husband. Just tell me, I hate seeing you like this."
Will looked across at his wife's worried expression, and felt a rush of love for her. He loved having such a caring woman around him. "Fine," he gave in, "I'll tell you." Penelope propped herself up on her elbow to listen. "Today I received bad news about a former friend. He died a week ago."
Penelope was immediately sympathetic. She loved her husband so much, and hated him to be unhappy. Rubbing his shoulder, she tried to comfort him. "Darling, I'm so sorry! Did you know him well?"
He shook his head. "I haven't seen him for years. His name was Jack, and he was a pirate who helped me save Elizabeth Swann when she was kidnapped. We never saw completely eye to eye, but he was so full of life… as if he was invincible… it's just a shock to hear that he's dead."
Penelope's face had clouded over when she heard the mention of Will's former fiancée, but she tried to remain impassive. "I think I remember… did you save him from being hanged?"
"That's right. Just before me and Elizabeth became engaged. Sorry!" Will apologized, seeing Penelope's strained face. He had forgotten about how much his wife detested Elizabeth.
"Did you find out how he died?" she asked, trying to change the subject.
"No…" Will looked puzzled. "This man just came into my shop, told me the news and left. Shit!"
"Don't!" Penelope chastised. She hated him to swear, it set the children a bad example. Just the other day she had heard Emily say "damn".
"Sorry. But I just remembered, he gave me a book, and I left it at the shop. I'll have to get it tomorrow now."
"Oh well." Will had offended her by cursing and talking about Elizabeth, and now Penelope was ready to end the conversation and go to sleep. "Goodnight Will." She blew the bedside candle out and lay down to rest.
Penelope was still short with Will the next morning, so he hurried out of the house as soon as he could. She was stubborn, and he never knew how to make her happy when she was angry. It was still early in the morning, and the streets of the town were deserted. Winter was nearing, and despite the heat in the Caribbean, mornings and nights were becoming extremely cold. Will pulled his leather waistcoat closer to trap his body heat as a chill wind blew against him. Arriving at the blacksmith's shop which he had owned since the demise of Mr. Brown four years ago, he opened the door and put it on the latch, although he was expecting no customers this early. Feeding the furnace ready for the day's work, he took off his jacket and hung it on a nearby chair. Then he scanned the room for the book he had been given the day before. There it was, sitting on a work surface beside a sword handle. He brought a wooden chair up to it and sat down to look at it. He removed the cloth wrapping. The book was reasonably thick and covered in stiff, brown leather. There was a band of the same material holding the book shut, and Will removed this as well. As he opened the book carefully, a sheet of paper fell from between two of the first leaves. He picked it up and began to read. It was a letter.
Dear Reader,
Well, dear Will I suppose. I will not pretend you came across this by chance, I meant you to be the reader. Here is why. By the time you are reading this, you will have heard that I, the great, the infamous, the unbreakable Captain Jack Sparrow, have passed on. You will be inconsolable with grief, I know, but fear not young William- there is something you can do for me. Fulfill my dying wish, as it were. You see Will, I was thinking about everybody I've helped in the past, and who owes me a favour. Only thing is, that did not work out too well because I always made everybody repay their debts in time. Old habits die hard. So I was at a bit of a loss, until I thought of you. I did you a favour, and, aye, you paid me back, but you are young and happy, I hope, so you would agree to do something for your old mate, Jack. And even if you do not agree to that, there ain't much you can do because I am dead and one should not ignore that ancient saying, "never refuse a dead man a request". No, you have not heard that ancient saying, I know, because it is a brand new one. Even ancient sayings have to originate somewhere.
Enough with the small talk. Here is my request- inside this book contains part of the life story of myself, which I have begun to write. I need you to finish it for me. I have noted down such details as where I was born, to make it easier for you and Elizabeth to research. Aye, Elizabeth. It will involve a lot of traveling, and you would not want to leave your bonny lass alone, now would you?
I hope this letter finds you and Elizabeth well and perhaps parents. Give Commodore Norrington my sincere greetings. God bless and good luck in your task.
Yours,
Captain Jack Sparrow
Will put the letter down, feeling overwhelmed. Even from the grave, Jack's voice was loud and clear and so… Jack. Will read the part about Elizabeth again. He hadn't thought about her in a while. He hadn't seen her for… he couldn't remember when their paths had last crossed. Once very much in love, Elizabeth and Will had not been on speaking terms for ages. Five years ago, Will had broken off their engagement after he had found about an affair Elizabeth had been having with her visiting second cousin, Richard Stanford. She insisted that they were not having an affair, that she had turned to him for comfort once when she was jealous of Will's friendship with one of the girls in the town, and one thing had led to another. Will did not believe this, as he barely knew the girl she had been referring to, and had called off their forthcoming wedding. He had become lonely and withdrawn until Penelope had arrived in Port Royal a month later, and in her he found everything he was looking for in a soul mate. They indulged in a whirlwind romance, and were married two months later. Penelope was angry with Elizabeth when she found out how she had treated Will, and hated the sight of her. Will was not ready to forgive her either, and over the years he had begun to share some of the same feelings as Penelope. Now they could not even be civil to each other. Richard Stanford had seen the opportunity, and stayed in Port Royal to marry Elizabeth. They now lived in a very large house on the West side of the island, and rarely spoke to the townsfolk. Rumour had it that Elizabeth and her father had fallen out recently.
Folding the letter up small and placing it back inside the book, Will wondered what to do about Jack's request.
*****
Ok, I know there are a few things that may seem weird, but I'll justify them in the next chapters. Please review!!!!