Elizabeth could do naught but marvel at how nervous she found herself to be feeling—after everything she and her husband had been through for one another, after everything they had faced, the only time she felt the truly sickening thrashing of sea monsters in her belly at what would be thrown at them next was the evening of their wedding night.
The ceremony was over, the cake had been cut, the gifts opened and the guests dispatched, leaving her standing alone in the bedchamber of a fine inn in nothing but her nightclothes, awaiting the knock on the door that adjoined Will's room to hers, and she had never felt so skittish in her entire twenty years of being.
She could hardly believe what a wilting flower she was being, after all her protestations to anyone who would listen that she was anything but. Honestly, she would laugh at herself if she did not doubt her ability to hold down the spectacular wedding feast she had consumed earlier in the day if she opened her mouth to let out the sound.
She had passed through the vows and the 'I dos'—the part which many regarded as the most nerve-wracking of the entire business—with relative ease and aplomb. There was not a single doubt in her mind that she loved Will and wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, however long or short that time may be. She supposed her nervousness had much to do with the fact that a wedding ceremony, with its overtly ostentatious display of showmanship, did not really even compare with the intensely private ritual that was about the take place, the ritual only she and Will would be privy to, the ritual that would truly bind her to him for all eternity, the ritual that was to make her Mrs. William Turner in more than just name.
She knew, at least relatively, what was supposed to happen tonight, but hardly by experience. The activities a bride and groom engaged in on their wedding night was hardly fodder for conversation in polite society, which was the company she had found herself in more often than not during her relatively young life, excluding the various misadventures she had had aboard pirate ships. There, however, what men and women did behind closed doors (or in some shadowy back ally in Tortuga, or a not-so-secluded corner of a seedy tavern) was fair game for discussion, something which had always made her rather uncomfortable, even though she did her best to hide it under a mixture of outward over-confidence and self-righteous disgust.
Though she would never admit it to a living soul, especially not to her husband or one of their pirate friends, she had always been curious about exactly what it was that happened in all those gaudy romance novels—the ones her father had forbidden her from reading for not being worth the paper they were printed on, which were, coincidentally, also the ones she could not keep herself from secretly perusing (all in the interest of being able to make small talk with the mindless society women who read them, she assured herself)—when the handsome knight carried off his beautiful maiden, the one true love of his life, to his castle after he had slain the fire-breathing dragon.
She had always thought her and Will's real life romance paralleled something of a fairy story—had they not risen above or defeated all the odds they had come across, which ran the gamut from class constraints and public disapproval of the odd company they kept to battling undead pirates, a kraken, and sailing to the ends of the earth, just to be together? Things may not have always gone smoothly, and there had been several bumps in the road along the way that had almost dislodged them, but wasn't that really what made love, like so many other things in life, worthwhile? The unexpected twists and turns of the journey?
And then there was Will himself—brave, courageous, selfless Will, with his storybook good looks and almost frustrating sense of honor and morality. He was every inch her White Knight in Shining Armor. By no means was he perfect, but neither was she for that matter. And he need not be a perfect human being—all that truly mattered was that he was perfect for her, and he made her the happiest she could ever remember being in her entire life.
But now that the metaphorical dragon was slain (with her help of course), and they had finally been joined together in holy matrimony, before the eyes of God and all the people of Port Royal, what was to happen next?
What happens after happily ever after? she could not help but wonder as she idly twisted a long, silky curl around her index finger, biting her lip in thought. The thing was, her and Will's story wasn't ending. As clichéd and hackneyed as it may sound, it was just beginning, and she could desperately use the knowledge of what to come next, and not just what was to come next tonight, but for all the nights and days of the rest of their lives as well, even if this, the night of their wedding, was what she was most preoccupied with at the present moment.
Her head snapped around to stare at the door that adjoined Will's room to hers when she heard a soft rapping coming from the other side. Even on the off chance it was not her husband who was standing just behind the door, awaiting entry, she would have known it was he by the sound of his knock—strong but gentle, just like him.
Taking a deep breath in a futile attempt to calm her fluttering nerves, Elizabeth said, in a higher voice than she would have wished,
"Come in."
The latch lifted and the door swung quietly open to reveal Will, her one true love, looking more handsome, more dashing, than she had ever seen him look hitherto this moment, and that was saying quite a lot. His soft, dark brown hair had been released from the knot that he had worn it in for the ceremony and the reception, and he had traded in his formal attire for a loose cotton nightshirt worn under a light, navy blue coat and a pair of tan breeches. This was the way she liked him best, so relaxed, so at ease.
"You look beautiful," he said softly, a light pink flush creeping up his tan neck and onto his cheeks as his large, chocolate brown eyes swept over her lithe body, taking in the sight of his beautiful wife clad only in an old but elegant green brocade dressing gown that was opened slightly to reveal the whispery, floor length nightgown she wore underneath, his eyes instantly drawn down from her glossy, honey hued hair that fell in loose curls down her back and shoulders to the soft curve and swell of her breasts through the gauzy fabric.
Elizabeth felt her heart rate increase exponentially under the intensity of his gaze and waged an inner battle against her new-found shyness to keep her hazel eyes from dropping to the toes of her impeccably clean slippers, made of the same brocade as her dressing gown.
"Thank you," she said softly, her brain having trouble thinking up words for her mouth to say. "You do not look so bad yourself. I daresay we make an exceedingly fine-looking couple."
They stood like that for a few moments, silently regarding one another until Will swept across the room in several long strides and wrapped his strong arms around her, pulling her gently into the hard wall of his chest and swinging her about the room until they became dizzy and he had to stop.
"I love you so much, Elizabeth," Will whispered as soon as he had regained his equilibrium and they had stopped laughing. He nuzzled the soft skin of her neck with his nose as he breathed in the scent that was uniquely Elizabeth—his Elizabeth. "Words cannot express how happy you have made me."
"Oh, Will," she murmured as she pulled back so she could look into his eyes. They were so full of adoration, so full of love, and all for her, and she knew if a mirror were held up to her face, she would see the same sentiments reflected in her eyes as well. "I love you too. Always and forever."
Anything else she might have wanted to say flew from her mind with the speed of an albatross as her handsome husband's full, slightly chapped lips swooped down to capture her rose-petal soft ones in the most passionate kiss they had ever shared. His warm, callused hands pushed her dressing gown off her shoulders and she allowed the garment to pool at her feet as he softly chafed her upper arms through the material of her nightdress. She felt her knees go weak when his hand slid down her front to tentatively cup her right breast, and she thought it lucky that he had wrapped his free arm around her slim waist, otherwise she might have gone the way of her robe and fallen to the floor, a puddle of gooey Elizabeth mush.
She realized then that her nerves had all but completely fled from her body, thanks in no small part to how gentle and reassuring Will was being without her ever having to express her apprehensiveness to him. Wrapping her thin arms around his neck as he began to back her towards the very inviting, large white bed that was the focal point of the entire room, she sighed happily against his lips, fully ready to become Mrs. William Turner.
AN: I really hope you enjoyed reading this, as I had a blast writing it! The idea came to me all of a sudden while I was reading the wonderful Will/Elizabeth fics by authors like Kchan88 and others, so I thank them manifold for the inspiration. I noticed there were a few stories of how Will proposed and the couple's wedding, so I decided to write a wedding night story. I know I sort of leave you high and dry, and I'm sorry about that, but I am really no good at the hot and heavy stuff--you really do not want to see my attempts. So if you liked, review! It's my drug and I will love you forever for it! - Love's Hope Lost