AN: Apparently, when I am sick enough, I write fluff. And not just any fluff, oh no, the kind of silly, heartwarming Willabeth childhood sweetheart first-kiss fluff that normally I can barely stand to read. Strangely enough, I don't dislike this, despite the fact that the "Twelve years later" part limps along like a lame duckling following the rest of the story.
Lieutenant West is my own invention, because I couldn't bring myself to make Gilette or Groves act like such a jerk, and though Norrington can be a jerk, he's a completely different kind. My French is limited almost exclusively to food and obscenities, and the latter wouldn't have worked in the context, so let's just be thankful I looked up the word for 'sick' instead of saying something like truite en flambe avec champignons en vin or something like that.
So with no further ado, I present to you the product of the shaky, jet-lagged aftermath of a 24-hour flu so bad I couldn't sleep or keep down anything but water, a drabble so fluffy you could put a collar on it and pass it off as a kitten, Lord help me.
The garden was dappled with sunlight and shadows and empty except for them. Though the hum of the adults' talk was faintly audible from the courtyard, it felt like they were an entire world away. The occasion was a meeting between the governor and the various tradesmen in the town, including the blacksmith whose young apprentice was smiling slightly at his best friend as she ranted, pacing back and forth.
"—and I hate French lessons, and I hate waltzing, and I hate, hate, hate the detestable pastime known as embroidery!" Elizabeth finished, glaring at an innocent lilac plant before turning back to Will, who quickly hid his amusement.
"You're learning French? Teach me how to say something," Will asked her with a teasing gleam in his eye.
"Vous êtes une truite malade!" Elizabeth replied.
"And that means?" he asked.
"You are a sick trout," she admitted. "That's the best I can do as far as insults, I'm afraid. They won't teach me any swear words." Will started laughing at that, then swallowed his chuckles as her face fell into a sullen look.
"Well, we've got to grow up sometime, you know," he replied gently. "It's not as if we can still slip everyone's notice for an afternoon to run off and play pretend games any more."
Elizabeth's eyes lit up and a mischievous smile began to appear on her lips, the same smile that he'd never been able to refuse anything to. "Well, why not?"
And that was how Will Turner, at the mature age of fifteen, found himself with Elizabeth's handkerchief tied around his head like a bandanna, brandishing a stick at an apple tree and demanding that its captain surrender his hostage immediately. Elizabeth peered out from behind it, then stepped out, carefully balancing on the roots, which she had proclaimed the deck a few moments before.
"I am afraid, Mr. Turner, that you have arrived too late," she told him grandly, eyes glittering. "I, the hostage, have taken command of this pirate ship from its former captain and now I will not lay down my sword until the sea is red with the blood of my enemies!" She thrust a slightly smaller stick into the air defiantly.
"That's just impolite," Will replied indignantly, biting back a laugh, "After I crossed the seven seas to rescue you from peril, and lost two ships and dozens of loyal men in the voyage? You shall be rescued, I say, even if I have to kidnap you myself first!" He used a fencing maneuver to disarm her, knocking her 'sword' from her hand with a flick of his wrist. "Come with me or die!"
"All right, all right!" Elizabeth conceeded, grinning. "Well, since I am now a pirate captain, I am prepared to pay my debt to you, my brave almost-rescuer. Name your prize and you shall have it: chests filled with gold coins, strings of pearls, treasures from the Orient," she offered, waving a hand grandly as if the mentioned prizes lay right there beside her.
"I already have all that. I have been in disguise all my life. You knew me as a humble metalworker, but really, I am the heir to the throne of, um…" He glanced around for inspiration. "Leaf… Land…" he improvised badly, making her giggle.
"Well, what could a mere pirate captain offer to the prince of such an ancient and prosperous country?" Elizabeth asked, widening her eyes innocently. "Why, your lands stretch for miles and your leaves adorn every tree in every forest! … only, funny, I've never been able to find your homeland on a map. I wonder why that could be?"
"Saucy wench," Will retorted, shoulders shaking with silent laughter, "You shall rue the day you mocked the great and powerful country of Leafland!"
"Oh, shall I? You'll have to find your country first! And then you'll have to find me, because by then, I shall have gotten away!" As she said the last few words, she pushed his stick out of her way and darted further into the garden, with him pursuing her. Though she knew the garden better, she had the disadvantage of being in long skirts, and he caught her only a moment later, catching her arms firmly but not roughly and pinning her against a tree.
"Hah! Let your pirate crew come rescue you now!" Will told her victoriously.
"What ransom would you demand from a mere pirate captain, you greedy prince?!" Elizabeth demanded dramatically. "Go rule Leafland and leave me and my crew be!" Will considered this, trying to think of a suitable reply for the reckless, swashbuckling prince that she'd somehow tricked him into playing.
"I ask for no ransom, no gold or riches, nothing but a kiss, my beauty," he finally declared, feeling rather proud of himself for coming up with that one, even if it did mean that she'd be pretending to slap him in maidenly horror next.
He was not merely surprised but frozen with shock when instead, after a moment's consideration of his terms, Elizabeth merely smiled and leaned forward to place a light but lingering kiss on his lips. He stared at her uncertainly as his hands fell from her arms, one hand rising to touch his mouth unbidden. They stood there for a moment, looking into each other's eyes, emotions written openly on their faces, and then Will slowly, hesitantly raised a hand to cup the side of her face and leaned forward to brush his lips against hers. She leaned into the kiss with a will, her eyes drifting shut. The kiss remained a chaste touching of lips for a few moments, but slowly, so slowly, became something more, a tender, sensual exploration that made them both shiver. Elizabeth wrapped her arms around Will's neck and buried her hands in his hair. His mouth on hers grew bolder and hungrier, as his restraint was eroded by the sheer passion in her response. He—
"Ahemm," came a loud, reproachful sound from behind them, and they both spun around guiltily to see Lieutenant West standing a few feet away on the nearest garden path. Elizabeth gasped, then quickly stepped in front of Will.
"That wasn't what it looked like," she said quickly, swallowing hard and darting a glance at Will. "We weren't... he wasn't taking advantage. It was my fault."
"Yes, he certainly appeared to be an unwilling participant," West said with a cold sarcasm, causing both adolescents to cringe guiltily.
"I was the one who started it, and nothing improper happened save the part that you saw," Elizabeth insisted, quickly smoothing her hair with a hand. "Really, there's nothing you need report to my father. We were… just saying a friendly goodbye, is all."
"Quite a friendly goodbye, I notice." The lieutenant said with a sneer. "If it is your habit to give all the young men of your acquaintance such friendly goodbyes, it is no wonder you're such a popular girl." Will flushed with anger and took two steps forward to place himself between West and Elizabeth.
"Sir, it was my fault, not hers. It was forward and entirely inappropriate of me and it will not happen again." He took a deep breath and let it out. "Any blame rests on me." Elizabeth's eyes widened and she started shaking her head.
"Will, no! You know that's not true, and he'll tell Mr. Brown and you'll—"
"I'll get what I deserved for touching something I knew I could never have," Will said in a voice so low it was almost a whisper. "It's that or ruin your reputation, Elizabeth. I have no reputation to worry about losing. Bruises heal; rumors linger. Do you want this to be the talk of all Port Royal?"
"I don't care what they think about me!" she whispered back.
"Well, I do care, and I won't let you throw away your good name over a moment of foolishness," he retorted, and her mouth fell open, struck speechless. A moment of foolishness?
"Lieutenant West?" Will asked, jaw set, eyes daring the older man to say something about their quiet exchange. West merely looked amused, a smile playing around the corners of his lips.
"Yes, I believe that you and I need to go have a talk with your master. In the future, have a care where you bestow your favors, Miss Swann. Your next little sweetheart may not be so eager to take the blame for your indiscretions. Come with me, Turner, and take that idiotic thing off of your head." Will numbly removed the handkerchief and gave it back to Elizabeth, then left with the lieutenant, stomach churning with anger, guilt, and nervousness.
She'd heard nothing of what accusations or penance had followed, for Will had never spoken of it, but every time they met after, she had to endure his careful distance, his polite "Miss Swann"s a painful reminder of the easy friendship that had once been.
Twelve years later…
"And that, my dear William, is the story of how I was kidnapped by pirates but ended up being made their leader, and how your father traveled across the ocean through great perils to rescue me," Elizabeth Turner said, smiling and smoothing her son's hair back from his brow as he half-smiled sleepily back at her. "Now get some sleep, all right?" A different look drifted over her face as another memory occurred to her. "Otherwise you'll never grow big enough to inherit the kingdom of Leafland."
"Mum?" William looked confused.
"Never mind," Elizabeth said as she rose and blew out the lantern, a mysterious smile on her face. "That's an entirely different story."