Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean or any of its affiliates. Disney, lucky bitches, hold rights to the movie and idea, along with a bunch of other people. (Most likely.) I am just a mere fanfic writer who owns nothing. Boo-hoo to me. This disclaimer shall account for all following chapters of this story since I am a lazy bum.
Author's Note: Hee-Haw, I got off my arse to actually write this fic! I was pondering the idea for quite awhile and after finding that ff.net actually put up a friggin POTC section, I decided to indulge my muse and just go with it. Plus, Captain Jack Sparrow is DAMN sexy. (Rawr.)
I had at first attempted to turn my idea into an Inuyasha fanfic, which I succeeded in squeezing out a chapter of but was restless since my initial idea for this wonderful movie was unused. You must understand, that I found our leading lady to be quite the…well moron. She didn't tickle my fancy what's' so ever and I wondered why woman were written off as self-centered gits, in so many historic movies. But then I don't write her off badly in the story either. I don't like writing off characters I don't like in a bad light just because I don't favor them. It's pointless. O_o;
My ideas sprung to life, coming up with various schemes and whatnot, after finding that there at the time was only one POTC fic. Of course now there is almost a hundred, springing to life after only days but *cough* might as well go along for the ride eh? This story takes place after the movie, a somewhat continuation of it, introducing a new plot and interesting characters. (Hopefully)
Act One, Scene One
"Captain, the tides have gone in quicker than I expected, we may not be able to dock as swiftly as you had wanted," the old man explained gruffly, voice muffled by the dirge of wind, that seemed to follow the boat as they sailed.
Only letting his eyes wander from his helm to glance at the messenger, Captain Jack Sparrow, motioned him away with his hands drunkenly and muttered, "Yes, yes. Everything has been going to ruddy hell lately hasn't it? I can't remember the last time something good has happened and this ship is lacking even one friggin drop of rum! No rum! All is doomed!"
Ignoring that Captain's consistent whaling about the shortage of liquor on board, the man shook his head and headed down to the deck, to help with setting up. Momentarily looking up at the stars, as he yanked on the water worn rope in his hands, he sighed as the stars twinkled above and mumbled, "I hope the Captain knows what he's doing. Going after such a thing, even Jack should know that it could only be a fairytale."
********
"Can't he at all disregard that simple shop for one day and spend some time with me? Even when we've been engaged for three months, he still insists on working at that grubby place every single day and I only see him in the evening! Can't he understand that I need him too?!" Angry and exasperated with her fiancé for constantly leaving her, Elizabeth sighed for the tenth time that morning, pacing around the base of her study.
It wasn't that she didn't understand his need to be out and about but couldn't he find time in his busy schedule to at least pencil her in somewhere? Of all three months that they had been engaged, with the hustle and bustle of preparing for the wedding, they had scarcely a chance to act like a couple. Let alone spend any quality time with eachother as husband and wife. Or at least almost husband and wife.
Bringing a gloved hand to her forehead, the young woman heaved another sigh, as she gazed out her window, towards the harbor. No matter how many times she complained, she knew that Will was too stubborn to stop working just because he was marrying a lord's daughter and more so she comprehended his longing to be back out on the sea.
The adventure with Captain Jack Sparrow, on the famous ship 'The Black Pearl' had left a permanent impression the young man and had buried a craving, deep inside his heart. A strong desire to sail, the seven seas and the freedom that came along with it. Oh, the freedom! She knew it too well too dismiss her love's want, knowing also the hunger for wings. 'My dear William…I truly wonder if we'll ever be able to settle down,' Elizabeth wondered, as she watched her fiancé leave the house, heading for his shop.
********
'Aw…the sea breeze,' Will thought wistfully, as he headed down towards the dock, for another days work. He knew he had left Elizabeth in another one of her fits, but he couldn't help but infuriate her with his actions. His feelings were too strong to conquer, and the need to escape, the confines of the mansion were too much for him. He knew she didn't understand, thinking he felt indebted to work and pay off his debt to the drunkard blacksmith Johnson but in reality it was because he didn't belong there.
Though no one cared to admit it, least of all his bride to be was the fact that Will Turner was not meant to be cooped up in such an extravagant place, with people doting on him every second. He needed to be free and goddamnit, he could feed himself! That kind of life was not one he wished to live for the remainder of his old age and though he inclined not to think about it, knew it would pose as a problem, later on when Elizabeth and he finally got married.
Pushing the unwanted thought out of his mind, as he rounded the corner into the blacksmith's, Will took off his hat and jacket, glancing over his shoulder to find Johnson fast asleep, still holding the empty wine jug from the night before. Shaking his head at the shameful sight, the younger man smiled at the reliability of this occurrence and sighed, as he got ready to make a new batch of swords.
Already it promised to be another normal, unexciting day for him and Will wondered if Jack would ever stop by to check up on him. Or at least save him from his own boredom. Picking up the his hammer and a scrap of iron to begin, his work was interrupted, when someone suddenly pried opened the door, letting a hooded figure step into the shop.
Clutching the hammer a bit tighter, as he watched the form glide towards him, he was ready to defend himself when a female voice inquired, "Are you the blacksmith?"
Startled by the discovery of the masked man's true gender, Will lowered the materials he was working with and nodded towards the numerous weapons mounting the walls and said, "All you see here, was born from my hearth, if that's what you are looking for." Grabbing a rag to wipe his hands, he quickly added, "And what brings a lady into this kind of place? Picking something up for your husband?"
"Actually," the figure started, pushing the top of her cloak off, to reveal a striking pair of amber eyes, crowned by a set of dark, raven locks. Her features were uncommon, bronze skin giving the woman an exotic look. If he was to guess Will, would've said she was rather young but her eyes and the air around her radiated heavily with a sense age and insight.
The proposal that she was a sorceress crossed his mind, since it was rare to see anyone with her distinct features in England but she seemed to be dressed more like a warrior than witch. Almost mannish he would say if it weren't for her evident figure. Her hair, though may have been long at one point, was chopped off to a length shorter then even most boys and messy as if she didn't care how she appeared. Her clothes also bore the familiarity of a buccaneer, as she wore pants and he could make out the vague outline of a pistol at her side.
Realizing that he was staring after a moment, Will quickly turned his attention to probing one of the scabbards that had landed on the floor and grunted, "Um, go on."
Watching his behavior, amusement in her eyes, the woman continued lazily, "Aw yes. Well I need you to fic my gun. You see, this very rude bloke broke it a few days ago and me being stupid enough to wander into a town with no gunsmith, need to rely on you instead." As the sarcasm dripped off of her words, she proceeded to pull her gun out of its holder and place it on his table. "You think you can do it sword boy?" Scanning around the room, she examined the number of blades he had and muttered, "Well you sure have enough of them. Some sort of obsession I would assume."
Taken aback by the curtness of her words and sharp affront, Will almost dropped the gun as he inspected it and spat, "Whatever my passion is, it has nothing to concern you. If you would, please refrain from making such comments to the one you are asking a favor of."
"Is that so?" she smirked, as if she had been pleased with his response. Leaning against the chair, that drunken Johnson was snoozing on, she commented, "And I thought arguing with a customer was bad for business. But then again with dead weight like this oaf as a boss, it must be tough doing nothing but fire steel day in and day out."
Wondering more and more about his first assumptions of her being a divine enchantress, Will scowled, as he finished looking over her piece and said, "My name is Will Turner and I take pride in being able to smith anything that you would ever desire. And lucky for you madam, I have the talent in me, to fix your busted revolver."
"William Turner you say?" the woman murmured, letting her gaze brush over him, when he wasn't looking. A strange wave of recognition sparking within her, she suddenly changed her expression from one of coy skepticism to a somber frown. If what he said was true, then he might be of more use to her then just a simple blacksmith. Striding over to gain his attention, she extended a slender wrapped hand and introduced, "You may call me Estel, Mister Turner. Bounty Hunter extraordinaire."
"Bounty hunter?" Will repeated amazed at her profession. "A young woman such as yourself is working dangerously as a bounty hunter? Wouldn't it have been easier to settle down and live peacefully with your family?" he asked, not noticing the cloudiness, enter her eyes.
"Easier…? Why I suppose it would be but…" her voice carried a faraway tone as she whispered, "Not always do stories end up as happy endings. Nor, do the characters always receive what they hope for. To live a life of adventure is the path I have chosen, and though I regret many things, I do not my dear Mister Turner, regret my life."
"I see," Will responded, his attention wading from the gun in his hand. Feeling as if their hearts were similar, he sighed at his own longing for a quest and envied the woman in front of him, for her ability to say such things, so easily. How he wanted to be able to do what she did, and live a life that wasn't tied down by obligations.
Eyeing his expression, through the corner of her eye, Estel shook her head, like she already knew of the feelings that were swimming through the man's heart. 'He's very similar to him,' she mused but soon scolded herself for drifting back to old memories and coughed, to regain his awareness. "Well then, I suppose my shooter is in good hands, so I'll leave him to you, to doctor. I should be back within the fortnight to pick it up and give you your pay." With that, she nodded to him, pulling her hood up to once again conceal her features and walked out of the shop, leaving the store as silently as she came.
Watching her go, rooted to where he was standing, Will suddenly felt an awkward feeling of loss, as she left and desperately wanted to race after her and plead, for the knowledge of how to become free. To gain that understanding was his most secret ambition, but as he was, all he did was sigh and grip the pistol in his hand tightly, before running a restless hand through his tangled hair and set off to find some tools.
********
"Captain, we've reached the port as you've commanded," the slight midget of a man informed, shuffling his tiny feet as he waited for a reply. Casting a dull glance down at him, Jack coughed, hitting the base of his chest and struggled to sit up, muttering a congested, "Thanks."
Not paying attention as to when the other soul left, Jack groaned as he got to his feet, reaching for a nonexistent rum bottle. Cursing at his luck, as his hand continuously grasped thin air, he grabbed his hat instead, thrusting it on his head with a grunt. He had finally gotten to sleep after having such plaguing nightmares and now, now of all times when he had fallen asleep, do they arrive at their destination? 'To hell with all of it,' he thought sourly and finished dressing himself.
Once out into the open, he inhaled deeply, letting the cool, sea brimmed air calm his nerves and energize his worn muscles. Making his way over to the edge of the deck, he gazed into the blackness of the night, the lights and noises from the town's nightlife filling his ears. Rubbing his chin, absently noting to re-braid his beard later, Jack came to the conclusion that it was far too late to visit his friend and bonny love until the next day…But that didn't mean he and his crew couldn't leave the ship to quench their thirst at the neighborhood tavern! Calling an order to depart for the nearest pub, a roar of celebration erupted from his mates and they set off into the bleak night, in hunt of fine liquor and maybe some good company.
-To be continued…?
A/N: Heh…so is it worth continuing at all? I'm not sure if this was what I had envisioned in my head but to be honest, I'm winging it as I write. Estel was not supposed to be so Mary-suish so if she ends up that way, shoot me! _; I'm aiming for sarcastic wench, who views the world half empty. =/ For her hair, I was imagining what Mandy Moore's hair looks like except longer and more curled in the back.
Also does anybody remember the names of the army guy who liked Elizabeth and her father? Was he a lord, mayor or what? And that fat lil dude, who is like Jack's friend and helped him round up a crew? And the evil Captain guy! What was his name?! (Racks brain)
-Meroko