Although, i would love to, i dont own any rights to the movies.
Silent Watcher
Three months were passed from the escape of Jack Sparrow, two since an engagement announcement of William Turner, a blacksmith, and Elizabeth Swann, the daughter of a Governor. For a man not to know of this he would have to be without sight and ears. Passing sailors knew of this announcement. Near islands knew of the engagement. All knew. The daughter of a governor deserved a Lord rather than blacksmith who was found at sea as an orphan as well as a criminal for engaging in piracy. Only the daughter's love spared him from his deserved fate upon the end of a noose below the door of a scaffold.
There were few who accepted this match and only one was a simple common man, not more than a lonely carpenter. His name was William Teague, though he did prefer Liam rather than his Christian name, which is also William Turner's complaint. No one knew him more than just Will Turner or Will, especially his Elizabeth who was more than likely with her fiancé. There is the beginning of my simple story of a lonely carpenter and a lost blacksmith.
Will glanced at Elizabeth every now and then, trying not to laugh.
"What Mr. Turner?" asked Elizabeth.
"Are you having fun?" wondered Will.
"Of course," replied Elizabeth.
Will glanced at her feet. "Place your left foot back farther, you'll have a stronger stance to defend."
"Oh, that is nice," noted Elizabeth after doing as she was told. "Are you going to teach me anything new today?"
"I have to finish this brace. It's expected soon," said Will.
"If soon then what about later?" asked Elizabeth.
Will rolled his eyes as he chuckled. "We'll see."
"Yes then?"
"Aye, yes then."
Elizabeth smiled. She slowly walked to him to give him a simple kiss on the lips.
"You know I love you?" Will whispered.
"And I love you Will," said Elizabeth.
"Please, Turner, are you going to finish that or not?"
Both turned to the door as Joseph Brown walked in. Quite to the contrary, he was not the blacksmith as everyone assumed.
Only twenty years of age, Turner possessed talents and techniques not known to even Brown. Only his clients knew of the exquisite work produced by his hand, myself included.
"I'm simply removing the sharp edges to give it a clean finish," said Will.
"It won't matter anyway," noted Brown.
"Matters to me," said Will.
"Perfectionist," muttered Brown as he rolled his eyes. He glanced at Elizabeth who was swinging the sword around her hand. "What is she doing here?"
"She's welcome here whenever she wants and I do appreciate her company," said Will.
"That is why I have Gregory," said Brown, patting the donkey's head. "He won't ever abandon me."
"And I will never abandon Will," said Elizabeth.
"Does the Governor know you are here?" asked Brown.
"Yes and he doesn't much mind. He's admitted to me he prefers me to be with Will knowing truly I will be safe with him rather than in the courtyard," said Elizabeth.
Brown rolled his eyes yet another time. He was quite known for doing that and taking the credit of another as young Turner discovered at age twelve. "Don't do all that lovey nonsense when I'm around," he requested.
Both Elizabeth and Will shook their heads. Of course they wouldn't do it while he faced them, but his back turned was something else.
With care and devotion toward all his work, Will cleaned and inspected the brace closely. He blew on the end then nodded his head with approval. Hearing the door creak open, he glanced up then smiled in delight.
One man no one seemed to forget was Liam Teague. Always there was something about him. He possessed the body of a sailor and carpenter, thin and quite strong. He was rather handsome with dark waved hair pulled into a tie behind his head, tanned skin, round, gentle face and bright, Caribbean Sea blue eyes. He was quite a man and one of the kindest, most selfless men I have had the privilege to know.
"Excellent time Mr. Teague," said Will. "I just examined your request and was waiting for you to return."
"Not bad at all," noted Liam, his voice just as gentle.
He stepped forward to claim his request. While doing so, his eyes glanced to Elizabeth in the corner. "Never leave your feet still. Always be in motion. You'll be prepared to move or strike," he told her.
Will raised an eyebrow, impressed. "Not bad yourself."
"I served in the Royal Navy during my younger years. Along the journey I decided it wasn't the right life for me, though I do miss it," said Liam.
"Anything new on the sea?" asked Will.
Liam shrugged. "The sea is the sea. Men trade, pirates haunt, marines capture and kill, countries war and spy, ships sail, men die, and the wind blows," replied Liam.
"Nothing," noted Will. "Just once I want to hear something about Jack Sparrow. I am curious to discover what trouble he's gotten himself into this time."
"Most likely more than he bargained for," said Liam.
Will nodded with a smile.
Liam's eyes moved along the contours of Will's face, reading the smile, before meeting his eyes. He softly smiled. Within that soft, small smile was longing and sadness.
The two gazed at the other with wonder and a feeling of being lost.
Turning away, Liam sighed. He looked at the brace. "Thank you. As always your work is perfect."
"He tries," Brown told him.
"It's the smallest of details that brings men to greatness," noted Liam as he walked backwards to leave.
"You're welcome," Will said before the door shut.
"That's a good man right there," noted Brown. "Good customer as well."
"All he does is request orders and bring them to his clients," said Will.
"Do you ever notice it is only him of the many carpenters on this island who comes here with requests?" asked Brown.
"When are you ever awake or present to observe?" asked Will.
Joseph Brown shut his mouth as his eyes narrowed into a small glare.
"And it isn't just him," said Elizabeth.
The two men looked at her, one in approval with a proud smile on his face the other looking at her sourly.
"I still say there is something about him," began Brown.
Will rolled his eyes as he dropped the hammer on the table to turn and completely face him. "Don't do this again. You have to bring this topic to conversation every time Mr. Teague walks out."
"I'm sorry but he has never looked at you normally since he first saw you when you were twelve. Even today, today actually, he was looking at you oddly," said Brown.
"You asked him already and several times before, he's not my father. If he was my father I think he would have come to me and told me so the moment I arrived. Looking similar is not enough to accuse a man of being my father. How many men have looked similar to me and you? Too many to count. I don't think my father is alive anyway," said Will.
"You never know. Didn't you say your father merely got up and left one morning?" asked Brown.
Will looked at him as his body slumped. An unusual amount of pain was behind his eyes and much more in his voice. "No, I do know my father is not alive."
Elizabeth brushed his cheek with her palm. "We've been through this more times than I can count in the past three months. We agreed this was right. He would have wanted it this way. You did not kill him."
Will forced a smile toward her direction, however even that smile was attempted. "Go back to the manor. I have a few more items I must finish before tomorrow. We'll play another day."
With a sigh, Elizabeth nodded. She gently kissed her Will then left in disappointment, but acceptance. She would talk to him that night. It was only a matter of early evening, after dinner, or late at night when Will would come to her wanting to talk about it again. She knew he would come like always and like always he did.
After dinner, near ten o'clock, Elizabeth sat with her knees curled to the side in the lounge chair in front of the fire reading a book. Of course she wasn't going to do anything requiring many hours, as Will was going to come to her more sooner than later now. The book was merely a distraction while Will went upon one of his usual eruptions of guilt, which were becoming more and more frequent lately I'll admit.
Though it was late at night, Will walked through the doors of the manor. He set his boots off to the side then walked up the stairs without so much as a hello to the Governor or James Norrington. Both took a glance at each other deciding it best not to say anything to Will this time.
Will stormed through the door to Elizabeth's suite, which told her the mood he was in. He glanced in each room, looking for her then found her sitting in her bedroom. He closed the door then sat on the bed with his legs crossed and hands in lap.
The unusual quietness of his mood frightened Elizabeth and anyone else who knew him enough to know his moods. She looked at him.
"You know my opinion about the situation with my father. We've never spoken of how you see it. So, how do you see the situation on my father?" asked Will.
Not quite prepared for what he was asking, as it was odd for him even, Elizabeth looked at her place in the book, shut it, and then looked at him.
"Well, I do know your mind in this story," she began, wasting time as thoughts frantically went through her mind. Will looked at her with a lost expression. "I honestly don't know what to think. Your father was sent to the bottom of the ocean twelve years ago. Water pressure and water itself would have weakened the chains and he would have escaped. It's what he did after he escaped that you are worried about. Your father is somewhere out there Will. I know he is."
"Then why hasn't he come to me?" wondered Will, his voice sad like a child's after a toy broken.
"Perhaps he doesn't know where you are. Until three months ago I'm sure he didn't think you were alive. The world is a big place and the sea is not always reliable. You truly aren't exactly well known through the world. It will take time for him to find you," said Elizabeth.
"If he's still alive and wants me," muttered Will.
"Why wouldn't he want you? You're his son," noted Elizabeth, moving closer to him to pull at his curls.
"He left me when I was three. Clearly there had to be a reason why he left," said Will.
"If he didn't care about you why would he send you a piece of the Aztec gold?" asked Elizabeth.
Will's body slumped lower against the bed. He brought his knees to his chest where he tucked them under his chin, hugging them close together. One would undoubtedly mistake him as a child at the moment.
"Will, you left home and never returned. None of your family knows where you are. The only mark proving where you are belongs to your father in the form of knowing you are in the Caribbean somewhere if not near," said Elizabeth. "Your father will find you and you two will be together."
"What if he was still underwater? I released the curse which killed him," said Will.
"If that was true then he would want it. Knowing his son was alive as he was dying wouldn't be a terrible way to die," said Elizabeth.
"What do you know about death?" asked Will.
"I watched my mother die," replied Elizabeth.
"I watched my mother and sister die and possibly killed my father so I know more," said Will softly.
Elizabeth kissed his cheek. "I know you're guilty for what you've done because you don't know what came from it, but he would want you to live your life as you should. Move on from the past. You only have your future to look forward to."
"I wish I knew what happened to him," whispered Will before burying his face against his knees.
"We've been through this time and time again," reminded Elizabeth softly. "Whatever fate came to your father you can't let it be your blame. May I remind you Jack also owed his blood. If you want we can blame this on him. He was the last one to take a piece from the chest so it would be considered as his fault for killing your father if that's how it is."
Will raised his head to look at the fire. He wiped his eye on his knee and softly sniffled. "Why do I just feel like I killed him?"
Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his body. "Because you've been alone for too many years and the only piece of your father you have is gone from you. You'll be fine. It'll be fine someday. You'll see."
"How can you be so confident?" asked Will.
"Time heals all hurts," whispered Elizabeth. "Believe me. Letting go, allowing time to heal may be the only solution to your guilt."
"I've been lost to the world most of my life and an orphan for over half. I can't return home because I don't belong there. I don't belong here. I have no family left in the world. I'm lost," said Will.
"You have me. Together, you and I, can give you a family with plenty of children to call your own and announce us as your family to the rest of the world," said Elizabeth.
"We can do that as soon as we marry and move away from everyone because no one has ever wanted me near. I'm like an omen of death," said Will.
"You're alone and don't know what to do. You need to sleep. Take the day off tomorrow. We can go for a picnic or walk on the beach if you want. You aren't the only one who knows how to forge," said Elizabeth.
"Can you just hold me?" asked Will.
With no other words, Elizabeth did hold Will. She held him tightly, as he needed love in his life once more. Never before have I seen someone so lost and alone as he. Even the lonely carpenter had more company than him it seemed, which was a difficulty to believe.
The day following the blacksmith's realization of being an orphan was the dawn of a new life for another. This is where the story truly comes together and I was there for it all.
After noon, James Norrington trudged alongside Port Charles and around the docks contemplating his usual thought. Recent happenings in his life brought about changes toward the world's perspective of him. Granting Jack Sparrow a day's head start, losing him in a hurricane as well as more than half the men he left with and returning to Port Royal with nothing of the most notorious pirate known to man had a way of doing that to him. The only word describing him to the world was failure and he felt like one as well.
The single place he found comfort was near ships and the vastness of the sea as most sailors would consider safe haven. One thought was on his mind more recently and becoming more and more recent with the passing of time. What was he going to do now?
While James wandered aimlessly through the docks, the carpenters who recently completed the refurnishing of the Dauntless sat in the shade against trees just off the dock talking and eating a late lunch.
"Did I not tell you mates we would finish before mid-afternoon?" reminded Liam.
"You did say that," noted Henry.
"Personally, I believe the King of England would have enough trust in her to sail her 'round the world," said Elijah.
Liam nodded as he took a bite from the pork sandwich. An unusual amount of savoring was in his eyes as he leaned back against the tree. His mood shifted as a banana fell from the tree on top his head. He cursed as he looked above him while the other two gentlemen laughed at the scene.
"Fruit from God," noted Elijah.
Henry held his sides as he roared with obnoxious laughter.
Jonathan ran up to them. "Good news, we're through for the day. Did I fail to notice something?"
"Aye, the Lord seemed it appropriate to drop this banana on top my head," said Liam. Seeing Jonathan began laughing as well, Liam pushed him on the shoulder as he stood. "I'm going for a walk away from you laughing hyenas and I'm taking my banana with me."
As he said he would, Liam Teague took his banana and sandwich with him as he walked away from the falling fruit tree. He slowly went around the dock observing the new ships arriving in port wondering if he recognized anyone else he knew. Being carpenter he once told me it was common to meet with old friends and acquaintances from the past if not new ones returning from another assignment. The only entertaining scene he saw was the dock master arguing with the captain of a small sloop scarcely worthy of sailing.
The two men here have the same issue at hand: neither knew what to do at the moment. Ironic enough, both decided to walk into the same tavern and sit near each other. To this day I still believe a higher authority than the one we know on this earth brought that about.
Liam drank his ale as he picked at the banana. He glanced at the Commodore seeing his distress. "Long day?"
"Quite," noted James.
"Same," said Liam. He took a bite from his fallen banana. "Repairs on the Dauntless have been completed Commodore, just finished less than an hour ago."
"Thank you," said James with a nod of his head.
Liam looked at him and nodded. He turned around, observing the men in there as well.
James took a glance at Liam. He looked at him closely for a curiosity matter. Something, something about him was familiar in a very distinct way. He watched as the man carried himself about the room after finding friends in the corner. A smile lit upon Liam's face as he laughed.
Turning to look at his mug, James's eyes narrowed in wonder. There was something he couldn't describe that was more familiar than he had known in quite a time. He turned to Liam once more watching his behavior. A thought came into his head but he dare not say it. The logic behind his thought was not reasonable and without evidence to concur.
Still, the thought would not leave his head as he watched Liam laugh and talk with his friends. He had a single question. Could it possibly be him? After all these years could it be him?
Appearing the same was much different as being related. Although, Liam did have his hair color to an exact strand. The shading was also the same; even the sunlight brought out lighter pieces. Shaping in the eyes was formed exactly to his. The round, rectangular form of the face met his exactly. Even the form of his body was similar. Supporting this theory to James was the smile. He knew his smile enough to know Liam's was the exact same.
Curiosity having taken to his mind, James approached the man. "Excuse me, could I have your name? I wish to thank the man who took time to refurnish my ship."
"Liam Teague," said Liam, holding out his hand.
James took his hand. "Thank you."
"It's a living," replied Liam.
You are undoubtedly curious to know the wonder and theory James Norrington possessed in his mind, but I will come to there soon enough. First, I must explain something James needed answered first.
Needing his answer immediately, he went for the smithy and entered.
Joseph Brown looked at him. "What do you need today Commodore?" His voice wasn't as approving and smooth.
"Do you know where Turner is today?" asked James.
"He said he needed today for hisself. Private matter. Private being with the Governor's daughter," noted Brown.
James nodded. "Thank you anyway."
Having no other choice but to wait, James made way to the manor where Weatherby Swann stood by the window looking out.
"How long have they been gone?" James asked.
"Since after sunrise," replied Weatherby. "You know how those two are."
James nodded. "I need to talk to Will about something."
"That is going to be some time," warned Weatherby.
"Time that is not enough to matter to the rest of the world," noted James.
"You can wait here if you wish. I expect them back near sunset as Will usually brings her back around then."
"Thank you," said James.
Also knowing how Will and Elizabeth were, James took the Governor's invitation and sat in the parlor reading.
Unusual to them, the two returned before sunset.
Will glanced in the parlor. "You have something to talk about?"
"Yes," said James slowly as shut the book. He motioned to a chair. "Come. Sit."
Will sat with a heavy sigh.
"This is going to be an odd conversation," warned James.
"All well for today," noted Will.
"Do you remember your father?" asked James.
Will shook his head. "He left when I was three. All I've ever known about him is a painting that hung in the house when I was a child. My grandfather always found me staring at it."
"What did your father look like?" wondered James.
Thinking back to the painting he had seen so long ago, Will's eyes clouded with thought. "His face was bronze and shaped like mine but rounder. I have his hair color but his are formed in waves rather than curls. Mum said we have the same eye shape and smile. I have her laughter but his smile. His eyes are the color of the sea. I remember that most in then painting. Looking into them as often as I did in the painting, I saw wonder and thought behind them. Mum always said he was thinking about something. He was a quiet man who kept to himself, but loved me and didn't want to leave. She told me he left to keep me safe from something. I never saw him again."
"Thoughtful, sea blue eyes?" asked James.
Will nodded. "I can't forget them even today."
"What is his name?" wondered James.
"William Turner, but mum and even Jack said he favored Bill. According to Jack Sparrow I look just like him," said Will.
"Who was your mother?" wondered James.
"Charlotte Turner," replied Will.
"Her maiden name?"
Will looked at James then turned away. There was some sort of fear behind his eyes as he seemed to scramble for something to say. "Stone, her name was stone. She was the daughter of a merchant captain. She met my father at sea."
"What did she look like?"
"Caramel curls. My eye color. Soft, glowing skin. Warm touch. Round, shaped face. She was beautiful," replied Will.
"I think I knew your father Will," said James.
"Mum told me he was a sailor in the Navy for a time so it is quite possible," said Will.
"True. He's a hard man to forget," noted James.
"If he looks like me as much as everyone says I would know him if I saw him," said Will.
"I think he would know you if he saw you as well," said James.
"Don't worry about that. If he's not dead he'll never find me," said Will.
"You never know. For you know of your father he could have been keeping an eye on you, silently watching and knowing you are safe," suggested James.
Will looked at him. "I doubt it." James shrugged. "What brought this on anyhow?"
"I've been thinking today. Have you ever heard of the name Teague?" said James.
Will shrugged. "I have heard too many names to recall any of them in my life."
"That's all. I simply was curious about that," said James.
"James, do you know where my father is?" asked Will.
"I might," replied James.
Will's eyes became bright with wonder. "He's alive?"
"He's been," said James.
Will's breath seemed to leave him as he walked from the room as one would have after overwhelming news.
James Norrington laid his back on the couch as he rubbed his lips with the side of his hand. He chuckled softly to himself then looked out the window, shaking his head.
His question answered and a favor to keep from a friend of his, he returned to the port near noon once more the following day, searching for one particular person.
"Commodore, is there anything I can assist you with? You look as though you need assistance," noted the dock master.
"Can you tell me where I might find Liam Teague?" requested James.
"I believe he is on Spanish Rose attending to repairs."
"Spanish Rose," noted James as he moved forward.
Seeing a magnificent galleon, he noted her name as Spanish Rose. A smile and determination went across his face. Even more excellent, Liam Teague stood on the dock in thought as he took calculations of the ship's damage.
"Mr. Teague," called James.
"Aye," said Liam as he turned. "Oh, hello again Commodore. What brings you here?"
"You remind me of someone and I was wondering if there was any relation," began James.
"Who?" asked Liam.
"William Turner?" wondered James.
"The blacksmith?" asked Liam. James nodded. "I do have a son but Turner is not him."
"That's odd because I clearly remember you and your wife Charlotte Seastone at her father's summer celebration. You, William Turner, were holding a small two year old with warm, chocolate eyes, dark curls, and a smile similar to yours," said James. He shook his head. "William Turner, you've been here this entire time keeping an eye on your son after all."
As I told you, I would explain James's wonder. I know it may be difficult to believe, but Liam Teague is in fact Bill Turner, Will Turner's father and so it is only fitting I call him by his true natured name.
Bill said nothing. He continued to look at the ship, breathing deeply.
James saw him tremble against the horizon
"How?" was Bill's only question.
"You're a difficult man to forget and Will remembers a painting of you," replied James.
Bill shut his eyes as he turned to walk away. "No." The tone in his voice didn't suggest James was wrong, rather, it suggested this wasn't happening to him.
"He wishes you to return," James called as he chased after him. "He believes you're dead."
"I should be," said Bill.
"The curse," reminded James.
"I know. Believe me mate, I know," said Bill. He stopped against a tree. "I've been here longer than Will and only now someone discovers my little secret. Why now?"
"I've never truly looked at you before. When I asked young Will, he gave me your description," said James. "Why haven't you gone to him?"
"How am I supposed to go to my son?" asked Bill. "How do I explain that I've not gone near him because I was ashamed for being cursed, didn't think he would want me because of the curse, and kept an eye on him instead? Do you think he'll understand any of that? What am I supposed to say then?"
"How do you think I explained the hurricane, the deaths of more men than I bargained for, and the simple few words that I lost Jack Sparrow, the most notorious pirate on the seas to Port Royal?" asked James.
"Touché," noted Bill.
"It's your son. Talk to him. He's wanted you for nine years. All these years you've been here and haven't said anything," said James.
"I've had more conversations with him than I can recall. He's known I've been here since he was twelve. Who do you think puts in the requests for items at the smithy as well as collecting them? I do," said Bill. "I would think he would have recognized me."
"A painting was all the knowledge he had of you Mr. Turner," noted James. "There is a lost young man wanting no more than to see his father again."
"He doesn't even know I'm alive," said Bill as he began to walk away.
"Oh he knows. I told him you were alive. He told me to tell you to come back," James told him. Bill stopped as he sighed and shut his eyes. "You don't have a say in this matter. Will knows you're alive and he will look for you." Bill shook his head. "Mr. Turner, I do believe your son has waited longer than he should have to know his father is alive."
Bill covered his mouth. "I've tried to tell him. I don't how."
"It'll come to you when you're ready to have your son back," said James.
"I've been ready to have my son back for years," Bill said.
"Then it shouldn't be difficult," James told him.
Bill drew a deep breath. He did no more than turn and walk away.
Now it's been a few days past. Will hasn't forgotten what James said about his father and begins having his doubts that he will see him. James waits patiently for Bill Turner to come and reminds him at noon everyday to go to his son.
Quite hesitant, Bill Turner stood at the gates to the manor, staring at them in wonder. Slowly, one foot going in front of the other, he made his way to the door where he stood frozen, breathing hard.
"Hello."
Bill clutched his heart as he gasped and jumped back. "Jesus, God."
"What are you doing here?" asked James.
Bill looked at him. "I need to hold my son again."
James smiled. He patted Bill's shoulder then knocked on the door. He gave him a nod.
The door opened.
"I request a consult with the Governor," said Bill.
"May I ask your name?"
"William Seastone," replied Bill.
He soon stood in the foyer staring straight ahead with eyes of terror. Inside, his stomach churned with nervousness. He held his hands to keep them from trembling.
"Seastone?" asked Weatherby while walked down the stairs. Bill nodded. "I haven't heard that name in centuries it feels."
"Do you know where I might find my son?" asked Bill.
"Your son," noted Weatherby.
Bill nodded. "Aye, my son. Will Turner."
Weatherby's head tilted to the side as his eyes narrowed in confusion.
Not to tell you this twice I'll merely tell you as Will is told.
He and Elizabeth walked through the door laughing and holding hands. It was good to hear Will laughing once more I shall admit.
Weatherby Swann slowly confronted the two. "Will, there is someone to see you. He's in the library."
"Father, are you all right?" asked Elizabeth.
The look on Weatherby's face seemed to just see Will for the first time. He nodded.
Curious, Will kissed his Elizabeth then made for the library. He wasn't expecting whom he saw.
"Liam Teague, what are you doing here?"
Bill looked at Will. "I knew Weatherby many years ago, but I came here to ask you a question I think you'll know the answer to."
"I'll try," said Will as he sat himself on the chair in front of Bill.
Bill moistened his lips. "How would you explain to your son you've been keeping an eye on him for the past nine years, silently watching?"
"What?" asked Will, truly confused.
"You see, I left my son when he was three because I had no other choice. It was the only way to keep him safe," began Bill. He turned away from Will. "I sent him a piece of gold when he was nine; it was an Aztec medallion. I was unable to return home because of a curse, so I sent him the medallion instead. Because I spoke against the captain of my ship, I was sent to the bottom of the ocean. I was there for a year of my life, the water crushing down upon me only thinking of my son's warm, rich brown eyes. Once I escaped, I came here knowing I would be safe. I was here for two years working as a carpenter when one day the new Governor arrives with his daughter and a young boy they saved upon the sea. I learned this boy's name and discovered he was my son. I was ashamed and afraid so I never told him I was his father, but I kept an eye on him. When I needed something I went to the smithy where he was the apprentice. Throughout these past nine years we've spoken several times with each other. Until recently he thought I was dead. Because my blood was needed to lift the curse I was under, he believes he killed me. I've tried to tell him several times who I am, but it's never come out. What do you suggest?"
"I suggest you just tell him," said Will, his voice small.
"What if he doesn't want me because of what I've done?" asked Bill.
"What have you done?" asked Will.
"I was forced from his life when he was three and never said I was his father for nine years though he's known me for that amount of time. I couldn't say anything because I didn't want to place him in danger. There were pirates after his blood. I was afraid to lose him and now I'm afraid he won't forgive me because I can't imagine a life without him," said Bill.
Will's lip trembled. Tears built behind his eyes as he stared at Bill. "I think your son would forgive you just as long as he can have you back and you'll never leave him again."
"I'll take him back the moment he wants me back and I'll never leave his sight if that's how he wishes it," said Bill.
Will nodded. His back trembled, as did his lip. Tears fell from his eyes.
Bill stood. He knelt in front of Will to remove the tears on his face and below his eyes with his thumbs. He palmed Will's face.
"Papa," whispered Will.
"I haven't heard that since you were three," said Bill.
Will leapt from the chair to throw his arms around his father.
Bill held his son tightly. He rocked back and forth, holding him and comforting him. He kissed his forehead then tucked his head below his jaw.
The two remained on the floor in the library in each other's arms where they remained for what seemed like the longest moment of their lives.
Having just woken, but not opened his eyes yet, Will stretched in bed. He brought more feathers in the pillow toward the center, below his face. He rolled on his stomach. Feeling warm and comfortable, he didn't seem to have the will to move.
"Are you awake little one?"
That simple voice caused him to open his eyes. He turned his head and therefore the rest of his body to face his father.
Bill smiled as he sat on the bed just as Will sat up.
"It wasn't a dream," Will whispered, to himself mind you.
"No, it wasn't, though it would have made a grand dream," noted Bill.
"It does," said Will. He shrugged a shoulder. "Personal experience." He laughed softly to himself. "All this time, I've known my father. I came to the Caribbean to find him and I found him within the first week."
"I knew who you were the moment you arrived. Your name spread through everywhere. Because I was a carpenter who already knew the blacksmith it didn't seem suspicious for me to be the one to continuously request items. I watched you grow right under your nose," said Bill.
"You could have said something," muttered Will.
"You know why I didn't," said Bill.
"Now I do," said Will.
Bill rubbed his shoulder gently. "You need to eat."
Will nodded as he threw the blankets aside. He took the red robe lying casually across the chair by the window before walking from the room, his father following behind him.
Having been previously told, Elizabeth smiled as she heard her Will's laughter along with an unfamiliar laughter. She walked slowly until she was near the bottom stair, watching Will and his father talk the entire way down.
Finally noticing her, Will brought her forward. "Elizabeth this is-"
"William Turner, your father," finished Elizabeth.
"Bill Turner," corrected Bill. He gently took her hand to kiss it as a gentleman would.
"Who told you?" asked Will.
"Father," replied Elizabeth. She looked at Bill. "Breakfast?"
"My all means aye," replied Bill. He held out his hand for her to lead the way.
Elizabeth took Will's hand as she started forward. She leaned closer to his ear. "I didn't know your father was such a gentleman."
Will leaned toward her. "Neither did I."
Not too long a time passed before Weatherby entered the dinning room for breakfast. Will and Elizabeth were beside each other with Bill directly across them. All three laughed and smiled.
Bill noticed the governor first. He acknowledged his presence with a bow of his head.
Although he accepted Bill's greeting with a slight smile, his eyes and attention were focused on Will. He stood quietly at the end of the table, merely gazing at Will as if never seeing him before.
"Good morning father," greeted Elizabeth as she excused herself from the table to give Weatherby a kiss on the cheek. It was then when she noticed her father's expression. "You look as though you've never seen Will before."
Weatherby turned his attention to Elizabeth in confusion. "Hasn't he ever told you?"
"Told me what?" asked Elizabeth, her eyes slowly moving to her Will.
Will's own eyes narrowed in confusion. They searched around the room like searching his mind for a question. "Haven't told her what?"
"William Seastone," replied Weatherby softly.
Never before had I seen Will's face grow pale and eyes widen as they did. He turned to his father. "You told him."
"You didn't tell him?" asked Bill.
Will shook his head. "Why would I tell them that?"
"I thought it was the reason why the Governor is allowing you to marry his daughter. A noble lady to marry a commoner happens not too often," noted Bill.
"Aye, then what were you and mum?" asked Will.
"Seastone?" asked Elizabeth. "That is the wealthy family in London. The Seastone family owns much of the merchant trading industry and is exceptionally influential in Court." She looked at Will and laughed softly. "Father I think you are mistaken by another. Will cannot be a Seastone."
"Not just," whispered Weatherby. "Will is a Lord of England Elizabeth."
"I was," corrected Will quickly, before this went farther. "Before I ran away."
"You were a Lord?" wondered Elizabeth.
"Was," said Will with emphasis.
"You still are son," said Bill. Will shot him a glare. "I'm not going to lie Will." He stood to stand beside Elizabeth. "Your finance is Lord William Jonathan Alexander Seastone-Turner. I married Richard Seastone's daughter. William is our child."
Shaking his head in disgust, Will removed himself from the table to stand in front of the window. I saw his eyes shut as if there was no more tomorrow or life inside him.
Elizabeth walked to Will, her form spirit like and wondrous. She turned his face with the gentle tips of her fingers. "Will, is this true? Have you been lying to me?"
Will turned to her, his face wrought with a thousand apologies. He grabbed her arms gently with his palms. "How can I have lied if I never told you?"
"But you never told me," said Elizabeth, her voice harsh with anger and confusion. Her voice became soft as a whisper, but pleading for an answer. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I ran away from that world with no intent of returning. I'm not going back. I don't belong there," Will told her.
"You don't belong here either. You've always been noble to me. Now I understand. Home and proprietary never left you," said Elizabeth.
"It did," said Will.
"No it didn't. You tried running, but you couldn't," said Elizabeth. "Why did you run?"
"Elizabeth, I watched my sister and mother die. I was ignored for the next two days. Being nine I was certain for one thing: my father was in the Caribbean," said Will.
Not quite believing, nor did I quite honestly, Elizabeth shook her head. She set her hand on his cheek. "Tell me the truth Will."
Will's lower lip curled beneath his top teeth as he turned away from her to stand in front of the window once more. "I didn't want my life to belong to another. When I was a child, I only spoke for myself or was allowed to think how I wanted when it was just me. My life was controlled by rules and punishments to obey those rules. My grandfather was already settling arrangements for me to attend school. My future was planned to the very day. Everyday I attended lessons on proprietary and techniques to conform me into the perfect noble. I was being trained into the perfect Lord for Court. Eventually I knew life wouldn't exist. Freedom then, was merely a word rather than concept. I wasn't going to allow myself to become something I wasn't. After mum and Lily, I ran before they had the chance to follow through and I lost all chance to live my own life." He turned to Elizabeth. "And I didn't want the world to know because they would treat me in such a way I wanted to forget. I wanted to be a normal person and I was. And every time I was near you I feared showing nobility because I knew, should your father have known, you wouldn't have a choice who you married."
"It wouldn't have mattered. I loved you the moment we spoke," said Elizabeth softly.
"I didn't want you loving me because I was noble. I wanted you to love me for me. I wanted to live my own life rather than a life someone else wanted me to live," said Will.
Elizabeth nodded. "I believe you."
"Anything else you want to know?" asked Will.
"How many languages do you speak?" wondered Elizabeth.
From my reserved position in this conversation, I chucked softly. That was a question quite like Elizabeth Swann.
"Four," replied Will. "English, French, Latin, and I am quite fluent in Italian. Although, I do know quite a fair amount of Spanish."
Elizabeth's face turned into slight jealousy, but was resolved into wonder. "I'm going to marry a Lord of England from one of the most influential families."
"A smart match," noted Bill, who I had quite almost forgotten was in the room.
"The match I wanted for my daughter," said Weatherby.
Will looked at Weatherby, Elizabeth, and James. "I would appreciate this remains between us. I don't want to be treated any more different than I am. Should that change, I will announce to the world my birth title."
In some form Weatherby, Elizabeth, and James acknowledged this offer. Bill nodded his head.
Quietness came about the room, as no words were spoken. None moved either.
Shifting, in his chair Bill opened his mouth to speak. Deciding against it apparently, he shut his mouth and stood instead. "William, may I talk with you privately?"
"Of course," said Will.
"Come, let's walk," said Bill.
Following a quick kiss to his fiancée, Will dressed in more appropriate clothing for public. He and Bill left the mansion leaving Elizabeth and Weatherby to have their own private discussion.
From the town, Bill led his son to the beach which no one inhabited at the moment. In the distance, however not far a distance, the harbor bustled with seamen, marines, and carpenters to his appropriate ship.
Unexpectedly, Bill suddenly pinned Will against a thick tree trunk. "You and I are returning home after you marry."
"No!" cried Will. "I'm not going back."
"It's not safe for you here William," said Bill.
"Why?" asked Will.
"I've heard from sailors and marines, Cutler Beckett is coming to Port Royal," said Bill.
"And why should I have to leave? He won't harm me," said Will.
Bill nodded, his face ghastly and stricken with fear. "He has arrest warrants for James Norrington, Elizabeth Swann, and William Turner."
"What for?" asked Will.
"Assisting in the escape of Jack Sparrow. What else for?" wondered Bill.
Will shut his eyes with a heavy sigh. "At the time it occurred to me it was the right thing to do."
"As was my decision to speak for Jack's right unknowing it would lead me to the bottom of the ocean," said Bill.
"Does Jack always seem to cause trouble upon others or just us?" asked Will, the tone in his voice rather mocking.
"No, it happens to everyone," said Bill.
Will sighed heavily again. "Do you realize he was a close friend of mum's after you left?"
"He was a good friend before so no doubt after," said Bill. "He is man who does what is right." His eyes glanced to his right wrist. "Even if it leads to condemning one of his closest friends a pirate."
"What?" whispered Will, his eyes narrowed in confusion.
Bill pulled his right sleeve to his forearm, exposing is wrist. Black cloth was wound his wrist, knotted tightly at the side. He pulled a black knife from his person to cut the cloth.
Will's eyes widened as did a small gasp. His mouth dropped slightly. Wondrous, he brought his father's wrist closer. Because Bill Turner's skin was darkly bronzed, the white brand of the letter p glowed upon his wrist. Will traced the mark with his forefinger. He looked at his father with a small smile.
"I can remove this," he told him.
"It is not possible to remove burns," said Bill.
"People often cannot see beyond what is shown. Enhance your mark, making it appear as though it was an injury," said Will.
A smile widened on Bill's face. He nodded. "Burn the rest of my wrist and arm."
"I won't return until I know you will be safe," said Will.
"I don't quite believe this is a fair trade William," noted Bill. "You simply have to return home, whereas me, I must suffer a burned arm and your grandfather."
"It doesn't seem better for either of us," said Will. "How long do you suppose before he arrives?"
"I heard he must prepare his Armada and receive money for this venture of his. I have a feeling he isn't coming here to simply arrest you," said Bill.
Will nodded. "It is best if we leave before he arrives."
"Let us hope we are away before his arrival," said Bill as he pulled his sleeve across the mark once more.
"I should do away with that quite soon," Will told him quietly.
"Tonight," said Bill with a nod.
"Not tonight!" cried Will.
"Why not William?" asked Bill, his voice more angered than annoyed.
"I don't want you lying in pain for the next week. I just got you back," said Will.
"All the more reason for me to hide this mark," said Bill quite obviously. "I've grown tired of my mark ruining my life. I want my life back. Hiding the mark from the world will return life to me. No longer will I have need to think before I move my arm or consistently look upon my wrist. You will do this to me in three days time. Understood?"
"Fine," said Will. "Agreed."
Bill tucked a loose curl behind Will's ear. "A little pain never killed a man."
"What pain? You are not going to feel a thing," said Will, his voice promising.
"Good, I hate pain," admitted Bill.
Will sighed once more. I have noticed he does that more and more frequently lately. As I could only imagine between his work, the wedding, and now the news brought to him today, his life was overwhelmed with stress and pressure.
He grasped his father's wrist to examine the condemned mark.
"William," began Bill.
"I hate to do this now, nor do I want to," interrupted Will, slumping against the tree. "If I know this is on your wrist my eyes won't leave. I will become just as cautious as you if not more cautious. We both know what this revealed could lead to. Again, I hate to do this now, however, I promise you won't feel anything."
"Tonight?" assumed Bill calmly.
Will nodded a few times. "Tonight." He looked at his father apologetically. "I'm sorry papa."
"You have nothing to be sorry about. I don't ever want you to apologize to me little one. It is I who am sorry," said Bill. He brought his arms around his son. "I'm sorry I have to place you through this for example."
"If this is all I must to do to have you in my life again it doesn't seem truly terrible," admitted Will.
"Perhaps for you," muttered Bill.
"I heard that," said Will.
"You were meant to son," whispered Bill.
Soon after, these two Turners returned to the manor. It was then explained what Bill's intentions were to become. While both Will and Weatherby had errands with the apothecary, Bill found it appropriate to give thanks for an old acquaintance.
With gentleness on his face, he approached the quiet and thoughtful James Norrington. "Commodore," he called.
"Please, call me James," said James.
Bill nodded his appreciation. "James then, I want to thank you for setting my mind right. I don't believe I would have found the courage to face my son had you not brought yourself into this."
"I have always thought of Will highly although it may not seem as though," said James. "He is a truly magnificent man. You should be proud to have such a son."
"It is incomprehensible as to the amount of pride I have toward my son. I've silently watched him grow from a boy of twelve to a young man of twenty-one. My one regret is I wish I would have told him sooner," said Bill.
"Regrets are merely encouragements to understand what we must improve in life," said James. "I know from personal experience to regret is a lesson of life. Live from your regrets. Learn from them. Regrets are our teachers through life."
"Well said," agreed Bill.
Believing he heard something, James turned his head followed by Bill.
Will stood in the doorway, leaning on the frame. Nervousness and regret, ironically, it seemed were upon his face. He opened his mouth to speak however no words were spoken.
Understanding, Bill nodded. "Now or never."
James slowly left the room to stand in the hall, simply to watch the two enter a room.
As he was promised, Bill felt nothing during the process, which Will crafted upon him. Following today came many more days like this. While Bill rest, allowing the burn to cool and given medicines when needed, he spoke with his son.
Quite often, the two of them were together simply speaking as a father and son would about everything a father and a son would and laughing. Often, Elizabeth came to ask Will a question and found herself staying with the two of them, invited to engage in conversation.
All the while, James silently watched and listened to the joy around him, a joy he caused. His soul kept to the shadows of the world. He remained in Port Royal for some days, keeping a silent eye on Will and his father. He couldn't bear to watch Elizabeth smile or laugh. Her very scent caused him pain. It was clear he was unneeded in their lives. Will had his father and I have never seen him as lively as I ever have. Elizabeth loved Will with a love not even death could part. I loved her for too long without receiving her love in return. I still love her, however, my purpose no longer served.
I was simply a walking shadow, silent and to myself as I have been for some weeks. It became apparent to me they no longer needed me and I accepted that as well as embraced their actions. I helped Will's life return in such a form he never thought possible, which brought may have resolved one of my sins, bringing me closer to Heaven.
With no purpose in Port Royal whatsoever as well as uncertain where my place belonged, I resigned my commission as Commodore and turned to the sea. I knew the sea was a good place to start anew. Never once did I intend to return, nor do I now.