Title: What Dreams May Come
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Characters: Will, Elizabeth, OCs
Pairings: Willabeth, mentions of possible Anabeth and Will/OMC
Written: 5 April 2009
Rating: T/PG-13 (character death, violence)
Disclaimer: I do not own PotC or the characters, those belong to the Mouse.
Summary: Will Turner leaves his wife and home behind when he is pressed into service in the Royal Navy. AU.
Notes: Written in response to a challenge by Panda/Brendan posed first during a CotBP rewatch chat, and formally given in the challenge thread.
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What Dreams May Come
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"It's nothing, really," Will said, trying to placate an increasingly growing irritated Elizabeth. Only a few minutes ago she had seemed fine and happy, but over the course of those few minutes, with very little input from him that would rightly cause her to act this way, her entire demeanor had changed, and now she stood like a cat ready to pounce. There was a tension in her shoulders, and tightness to her lips, and her left eyebrow had acquired a minor tick, while her hands drifted down towards her hips. All signs that he had learned to read over their last two years of marriage that she was angry and that he had better not expect anything this evening because he was not going to get it.
"If it was nothing you wouldn't be acting this way!" she said, finally throwing her hands up in the air, "You know what, I give up! Stupid, stupid men! If you don't want to tell me why you're acting the way you are, then fine. Bloody, stupid, useless men. They treat talking about issues like it's some sort of way to spread a disease," she jabbed her finger in midair at him and turned on her heel and stalked out of the parlor.
"All men are alike, I would have been better off marrying a woman."
Will wasn't sure if he was meant to hear those words as she left, but they left with him with a very interesting mental image. Only other woman he could see Elizabeth knowing or tolerating as a sort of equal was that woman in Jack's crew...what was her name? Anamarie? Anamaria? She was quite attractive herself, in a wonderfully exotic way, and quite fiery, too. He wasn't sure that the two of them might ever do the things he was picturing them doing, but damn...he shifted slightly in his chair, grabbing for a book that he could hold as he went to go to the privy to take care of his small problem. He glanced down.
Definitely not small. But still a problem.
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Will left the privy and decided that Elizabeth was still in some sort of seething rage, so he'd better take a walk and give her some additional time to calm down and return to thinking in a semi-rational manner. He wasn't sure why exactly it was that women held these grudges like they did, but whatever it was it was certainly inconvenient, and terribly unfair.
He wasn't watching carefully where he was going, he just let his feet guide him, and he was more than slightly surprised to find himself by the docks, where the overpowering stench of rotting fish assaulted his nostrils. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. He quite liked Port Royale, and he really liked the docks and watching the ships come and go ever since he was young, and spending those stolen moments with a much younger Elizabeth playing pirates, and planning to ste—commandeer a vessel and travel the world, but the smell of fish, especially rotting ones always turned his stomach.
Despite his aversion to the smell he stood there for a long time watching the activity, until dusk began to fall, and the the people on the docks gradually drifted toward their homes or towards the many taverns dotting the harbour front. He knew that Elizabeth would probably chew him out for not arriving for supper on time, but it seemed that women didn't need a reason to yell at their husbands. They'd simply do so whenever they felt like it, tonight he was simply giving her a reason.
He was about to turn and head back, and face the inevitable when he heard, nay, felt a sharp crack, and the whole world turned to shades of grey and tilted sideways.
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Will wasn't sure when he woke...he felt like he had never been asleep, or not aware of his surroundings and what was happening, but he felt a painful throbbing throughout his whole head, and he was definitely not standing on the docks where he had been. His vision, previous interrupted by odd flashes that reminded him vaguely of the lighting in the storms that would shut down Port Royal for days at a time, was fully clear now, and he was aware of movement to the right side of his body.
He turned his head to see what was causing the noise and he felt a cool and sticky...something on the side of his face as it came into contact with the ground, and was rewarded with a close up view of a rat scurrying about scarcely inches from him. He did the only thing that he felt was appropriate in such a circumstance and screeched loudly, shooting upright, and scrambling to his feet.
He must have startled the rat, for it turned about and dashed away as quickly as it could in the other direction.
"Blimey," a voice said, and Will turned towards it to see that there was a body from which it was emanating, "you'd think tha' you'd a'never seen a rat a'fore."
Will blinked, squinting to try and make out the man who spoke. It was kinda dark, and dank...ish. And there were metal bars separating him from from the other man...well, two sets, and a pathway separating the two of them, which reminded him a bit of the set up of the brig on the Black Pearl. He looked around and could see a few rounded windows, and hear the sound of men above and the sway of the sea...oh God...
He shook his head. This could not be happening. Those weren't windows they were...well, whatever one called windows upon a ship. Were they still called windows? Elizabeth would know. Oh God, Elizabeth was expecting him! He should never have left her, what would she think now of him never returning? And her father, he'd probably think his low opinion of his daughter's husband to be duly confirmed. They'd probably think that he couldn't take his wife's nagging, or that he had decided that he wasn't cut out for married life, and decided to cut and run, and oh God. Oh God, oh GodohGodohGod!
"You alright, mate?" The man across from him asked. He heard him sigh, and then a barely murmured, "'ad to get a nutter, din't they? Jus' me luck."
"Where are we? What am I doing here?" Will asked, trying to sound forceful and commanding, "and take me back! Do you have any idea what you have done?!"
The man across from him, who had his hands wrapped around the iron bars now released them and stepped back, holding his hands up and he backed into and sat down on what looked like it may have passed as a bench.
"See me? I'm be'ind these bars, too, you stupid, idio'ic, pathe'ic, excuse for a reasonably attired man!"
Will's brow furrowed in confusion, and he looked more carefully at the area around the other man. What he said was true. The man appeared to be behind a different set of bars, and ergo as much a prisoner as he. They were in the brig then, and he wasn't sure he could break out now, especially if they were at sea. He didn't really want to stand to attempt such either, the swaying of the ship making him feel ill. Either that or the bump to the head.
He sulkily, and carefully, lowered himself to the floor, placing his back against the hull, making sure that this time no one would be sneaking up on him.
"Do you know where we are?" he asked the other man.
"I dunno exactly," the other man said, his voice carrying a hint of suspicion. " 'eard other men saying something about 'Gadfly'. Reckon we're on a Navy ship, wot with all them uniforms and such."
"The Royal Navy?" Will said, looking startled, "I thought we were on a pirate vessel," he said, his heart growing lighter. This was better than the rut he had thought he was in. On a pirate vessel, the name William Turner would not be enough to get him off, especially with the often unpredictably violent nature of pirates. And he didn't think that knowing Jack Sparrow would prove to be any more fruitful. He snorted. He might just serve as a convenient replacement for Sparrow if they didn't like him, had this been a pirate ship.
But with a Royal Navy ship...that was much better. Being on a Royal Navy ship meant that this could all very quickly be sorted out by speaking with Commodore Norrington, or the Governor. All he needed was to tell them who he was, and explain to whatever idiot sailor had kidnapped him that they'd better let him go, or else he'd find Norrington and that sailor would find himself in more trouble than was worth with trying to keep him on board.
The other prisoner shook his head and leaned back.
"Think you've go' it all planned out, you do. Think tha' you can convince them tha' jus' cause you're a Bri'ish ci'izen you can be let on yer merry way, eh?"
Will nodded.
"They've made a mistake. I'm the son-in-law of the Governor of Port Royale, himself," he shook his head, "once they know who I am they will let me go. I can speak on your behalf as well, appeal for your freedom. This press is barbaric, and I know the Commodore personally."
The other man burst into laughter.
"And I'm a Don of Spain. That's a good one, you. At the very leas' you'll be sum entertainin' company."
Will sighed. Well, he'd show him. And he'd be out of here as soon as they sent down an officer or sailor to collect them.
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About an hour later several sailors came down with a lieutenant, who vaguely reminded Will of that annoyingly sarcastic and pompous right hand man of Norrington's. Gillette was his name, but it wasn't him. But he got that same voice quality down pat.
"Commodore Who?" he asked.
"Commodore Norrington," Will said, feeling like he was trying to explain things to a child, "your commanding officer!"
The lieutenant exchanged glances with one of the sailors.
"I'll not have you address me in such a manner," the man said, his voice cold and sharp, "you will address me as 'sir'."
"I demand to speak with your commanding officer!" The man in the other cell dropped his head into his hands and shook it.
The lieutenant looked furious, and reached through the bars to grab Will, and pulled him forward fast and hard, cracking his skull against them hard, and releasing Will to fall back in surprise.
"You are in no position to demand any such thing!" he hissed.
Will brought his hand up to his face, feeling it to see if there was any sort of damage.
"I was kidnapped!" he hissed back, "I am the son-in-law of Governor Swann, or Port Royale, where you kidnapped me! I run a blacksmith's shop. I demand to speak with your commanding officer, Commodore Norrington, and God help you when he finds out what you've done!"
"There is no Commodore Norrington who is my commanding officer, and if he was, I think he would have serious qualms about setting free a criminal who tried to jump ship from His Majesty's Navy," the lieutenant answered back.
"I am not a criminal!"
"You are a deserter, and you are lucky you are not hung for what you've done! And I am done dealing with this sort of insubordination. Smith!" he turned to one of the sailors, "ten lashes should do the trick for him, and after that I want him working. If he makes any attempt to escape, shoot him." With that he turned and left behind Will struggling to escape from his captors, doomed to a flogging, and no chance of a successful escape.
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Elizabeth stared at Will, aghast.
"That is what is wrong?" she asked, incredulous.
Will shifted uncomfortably in his chair, "I told you it was nothing."
Her mouth changed from an open expression of disbelief to one of amusement, and she fell into a fit of giggles, bringing her hand up to her mouth in a failed attempt to hide her laughter.
Will rolled his eyes and stood up, walking to the door to get out of the room. He had no wish to stand for that sort of reaction when Elizabeth had just spend the last half hour prodding him to tell her why he was acting a bit sullen and withdrawn.
He heard Elizabeth quickly hurrying across the room toward him and wrapping her arms around him holding him back from leaving, lightly kissing his back, and then leaning her head against him.
"I'm sorry to have laughed, Will, but you must know how absurd the whole idea is," Will loosened her arms around him and turned into the hug, pulling her close into him and leaning down and resting his head against her own, breathing in deep the scent of her perfume.
"I thought that I would never see you again," he said quietly.
He could feel her heart beating against him, and her hand came up to play with his ebony locks.
"It was just a dream, Will, it didn't happen. It wouldn't happen. It couldn't."
"I know," he replied. Elizabeth pulled back from him to look up at him.
"Do you really, Will?" she asked, her eyes searching his face, "Will, they all know you here. You're a man of standing. You'd hardly be press ganged into His Majesty's service. Besides, you're far too pretty," she said with a wicked grin, "you'd probably be made some fine and handsome naval captain's cabin boy."
"Elizabeth!" Will said, pushing her farther back from him, shocked by her words, "I'd never!"
"Oh come on, Will, I wouldn't mind," she lowered her voice conspiratorially, "so long as I get to watch."
Will was entirely unsure as to how to respond to that. Fortunately he was saved from further floundering uncertainty by Elizabeth speaking.
"Don't tell me that you've not had fantasies about me and some other girl."
"Anamaria," Will admitted.
Elizabeth stepped back from him, a look of horror upon her face.
"Of all the other women you could fantasize about, you chose her?!? A pirate?!? I—Will! Of all the—bloody pirate woman virago..." she trailed off at his look, and bit her lower lip. Her expression had softened, and once again she was back to quietly reassuring him.
"You'll always have me, Will. No matter what. And you won't lose me. So why don't we do something...a little special and forget all about that dream you had last night," she took his hands and tugged him toward the door with a look that suggested they ought to get to the bedroom as quickly as possible.
He let himself be led there, and as she tugged at his breeches, and he attacked her bodice it finally occurred to him what she had said.
"It wasn't last night, that dream," he said, ducking down and pausing on her bodice so that Elizabeth could strip him fully of his shirt.
"Then when was it?"
"Night before."
"Oh," she said, then paused, and batted his hands away from her, "but you said that it was last night's dream that was the bother. If you didn't dream that last night, and that wasn't the bother, then what was?"
"It's nothing," he said, attempting to tackle her laces again. She batted his hands away again, and gave a look that meant she would broker no argument.
"What was the dream, Will?"
Will sighed, knowing that if he wanted to finish what they had started, he'd best start telling her last night's dream now.
"Well...it was supposed to be our wedding, but it was interrupted, and we were both arrested by this Lord of the East India Company..."
Fin.