Love, Elizabeth

Summary: Will reunites with Elizabeth when she returns from a year-long visit to England. However, they aren't children anymore, and things are changing between them. Two-shot set before CotBP.

The second chapter of this story is in progress and well under way. However, I'm still open to constructive criticism, which would be very much appreciated. If there's something you think I need to change or include, give me a suggestion.

The sun was still high in the cloudless, blue sky as Will Turner made his way down to the docks of Port Royal. It was ungodly hot, as it usually was, but an intermittent breeze helped alleviate the suffering of those outside. Will could smell the sea and hear the cry of the gulls wafting toward him on the wind. He nodded to acquaintances as they passed, but didn't stop to speak to anyone. His thoughts were elsewhere.

He had labored hard today to finish his work early, as he had every day for the past week. Each day after finishing his more urgent tasks, he had slipped out the door and down to the docks of the port. His master Mr. Brown was usually passed out drunk by that time, so he didn't have to worry about making excuses for his behavior. Every day for the last week, he had looked for one ship among the many that were docked there, and every day he was disappointed. He would sit by the pier until nightfall, whittling to pass the time and watching the sea, waiting.

Today was much the same. Upon arriving at the pier, he looked for the ship he was waiting for and didn't find it there. He sat down on a barrel where he would have a good view of the bay, and settled in to watch and wait.

As he sat there, he pulled a letter from his pocket and unfolded it carefully. It was a bit crumpled and stained; he had been carrying it in his pocket since he received it a week ago. It was starting to fall apart at the creases, he had unfolded it to read so many times. It may have been a little the worse for wear, but it was still legible.

Dear Will,

Wonderful news! Father and I are returning to Jamaica soon! Father has finally finished his business here in England, and we will depart in one week on the Interceptor. She's to join the Navy's fleet in Port Royal. She's truly a beautiful ship; I can't wait to set sail! But it won't be the same without you there with me, like on the first crossing I made from England. Now that was certainly an exciting voyage—I don't think anything I experience on the Interceptor will come close to the adventures I had with you. Don't get me wrong, I love sailing. I love the feeling I get when all I can see on the horizon is the open sea. But I'm still expected to act like a lady and stay in my cabin and not wander around the ship like we did when we were children, which of course takes a lot of the fun out of sailing.

I really miss you, Will. I can't believe I haven't seen you for almost a year. Father held a party for my 16th birthday last week and all sorts of people came, but I can honestly say that the best present I got was the letter I received from you, wishing me a happy birthday. I know that you're busy and don't have much time for letters, but it means a lot to me when you write to me about what's happening with you.

I was going to write more about my last month here, but I'm tired of just writing you. I would rather tell you myself, face to face, when I see you again. I hope you don't mind. I'll see you soon, and I'll make my apologies for this short and uninformative letter when I do.

Love,

Elizabeth

Will folded the letter up again and tucked it safely back in his pocket. Every time he read it, something in his chest felt a little lighter, but tight at the same time. He thought he knew what that meant, but he wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

A lot of things had changed over the past year. But Will often thought that what had changed the most were his feelings for Elizabeth. He had heard the saying, 'Absence makes the heart grow fonder,' and he couldn't think of a more perfect example of this than himself. He had always adored Elizabeth, ever since their first meeting when they were children. She was his closest friend, and he would do anything and everything for her. The happiest he had felt since his mother's death was when he was at her side.

Yet, when she left with her father for an extended visit to England, he discovered something. Up to then, he had always thought of her as a dear friend, and in the first months of her absence, he had missed her terribly. He thought of her so often that he worked harder than ever to have a distraction from the constant ache of missing her. But there never seemed to be enough work to make that feeling go away.

Then he received her first letter. He could almost hear her voice as he read about the voyage (which wasn't nearly as fun without him) and her first week in London (in which her father introduced her to a young lady her age with whom she was supposed to be friends, but whom she couldn't find more vapid and uninteresting). He reached the end of the long letter and read her signature: Love, Elizabeth.

Upon reading that word, his heart leaped into his throat, and he was overcome with a feeling that was both exuberant and terrifying all at once. And that was the moment he realized that he perhaps felt more for Elizabeth than just friendship.

He must have read her letters dozens of times each, poring over them, memorizing them. Sometimes he just looked at her handwriting without reading, imagining her hand moving across the paper. The letters were wonderful, but they were also maddening. He couldn't stop himself from searching for clues as to her regard for him. Some things she wrote gave him hope, such as when she said she missed him or when she compared him favorably to other young men she had met. But then there were other things that seemed not as promising, like what she wrote in her third letter.

"If my finishing school writing instructor could see this letter, she would probably faint. Writing correspondence to a young man beneath my station, and with such informal language!"

Did Elizabeth really think him beneath her? Or was she just parroting the words of her instructor? Even after so many readings, Will could never decide whether Elizabeth's letters indicated she might return his feelings. He was therefore cautious about what he put into his own, much less frequent letters. He didn't write often because he had little time or money for paper and postage, and what's more, he wasn't nearly as good as Elizabeth at putting his thoughts down on paper. He wanted to tell Elizabeth how he felt, but knew that even if he had skill enough to put it into words, it wouldn't feel right to him to do it in a letter. No, this he would have to tell her in person.

Still, he wanted to give her a sign of his regard for her. Elizabeth always signed her letters, "Love, Elizabeth." Will, to be more discreet in case Governor Swann should see the letter, signed his, "Yours, Will." He couldn't think of a truer epithet.

The letters from Elizabeth were the closest he could get to being with her. They were the brightest point in his otherwise increasingly difficult life.

Just as his work afforded him a distraction from missing Elizabeth, her letters detailing her doings in England distracted Will from his own troubles. Just after he received her first letter, Mr. Brown received word that his only daughter had died. He had taken her death very hard, and started drinking. Will gradually took over more and more of the duties in the smithy as his master slipped further and further into dependence on drink. He covered for the older man so that he would not lose the respect of the town. He had learned most everything there was to the trade, so he started to do commissions himself that Mr. Brown should have done. Will did his best to help him, not just in the shop, but to overcome his grief. He knew what it felt like to lose someone close to him. But the only thing it seemed he could really do for his master was offer his silent support and hope that it was enough.

Even though Elizabeth's letters and his work served to distract him each from the other, they were both burdens in their own right. So Will found himself yet another distraction, one that didn't come with any caveats. A young officer of the Navy had come in one day to pick up a commission for his captain, and had admired the swords Will was making. He had greatly desired one for himself, but he couldn't afford to buy one. So, Will cut him a deal. He would make him a sword if the officer would give him fencing lessons in return. The deal was swiftly sealed, and Will began learning a different aspect of the sword. He knew how to make them, and now he would learn to wield one.

Will threw himself into learning, just as he did with everything in his life, and progressed quickly. Fencing made for an admirable distraction. When he was fencing, he was able to push his pile of work, his master's depression, and his feelings for Elizabeth out of his mind and just concentrate on the sword in his hand and the opponent in front of him. The movement of his body, the clash of steel, the strategic maneuvering, the rush of adrenaline—for one wonderful hour each day, everything in him could focus on just this. He would finish tired and aching, but feeling lighter than he had before, as though the fighting had relieved some of his considerable stress. He would have practiced even more if he had had the time.

Speaking of time, Will looked up to check the position of the sun. There were still several hours before sunset, but he wondered if he shouldn't head back to the shop anyway. What with waiting for Elizabeth's ship to arrive, he was starting to seriously fall behind in his work. He knew he would be up late into the night trying to finish commissions and repair work; perhaps he had better not waste most of his day at the docks.

He looked across the bay one last time, shading his eyes with a callused hand, and saw a sail on the horizon. It looked as though it were heading into port. Will decided to stay until he knew which ship it was, and if it wasn't hers, he would go back to work.

The ship grew larger as it drew closer, and Will could see that it was relatively new. His hopes began to rise. He stood up, straining his eyes to read the name of the ship, but it was still too far away. He watched the ship with an intensity that showed his impatience for Elizabeth's return. And finally, the ship drew near enough that he could make out her name: Interceptor.

Elizabeth was finally home.

Will rushed to the pier but was careful to stay out of the way of the dock workers as he waited, impatient, for the ship to dock. His eyes searched the deck and he was rewarded by the sight of Elizabeth standing on the upper deck near the back railing. She hadn't seen him yet. In fact, she was looking back the way the ship had come, out to sea. Will was immobilized by the sight of her, the light of the descending sun gilding her hair and face so that she seemed to almost glow.

Then Elizabeth turned and looked toward the harbor, and Will found that he could breathe again. He raised his hand to wave to her, not sure if she would see him. She must have though, because she ran to the side rail and leaned far out over it, hanging onto a rope for balance. She waved back, and Will was pretty sure she was smiling. Then her father came up and whisked her off the deck, probably to lecture her about unsafe conduct.

It felt to Will as though it took hours for the ship to dock, even though he knew by the passage of the sun that the time was actually much shorter. Finally the gangplank was lowered, and one of the first people down it was Elizabeth. She practically ran to Will, a bit wobbly from her sea legs, and cried out his name just before throwing her arms around his neck. She was obviously past caring about any breach in propriety, so Will decided he didn't care either. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close to him. The feeling of holding her in his arms at long last was indescribable; his heart pounded and his entire body seemed to tingle with joy. He was so overjoyed to see her again that he lifted her up and spun her around once while she laughed.

As he set her back down, she didn't let go. "I missed you so much, Will," she said softly in his ear.

Will answered in kind, feeling his heart swell at her words. "I missed you too, Elizabeth."

No sooner had he said the words, than their moment of reunion was interrupted by the voice of Governor Swann ringing out from just behind them. "Elizabeth!" He somehow managed to sound both scandalized and exasperated. The two friends sprang apart and turned to see Elizabeth's father just a few yards away, making his way toward them. He was by their side in seconds, a stern look upon his countenance. Will cringed inwardly at his own forward behavior, though he couldn't quite bring himself to regret it.

"Elizabeth, please try to comport yourself as befits a lady. You're not a child anymore, so you mustn't act like one."

Elizabeth didn't seem contrite at all; in fact, she was still smiling. "Father, I haven't seen Will for a whole year! We were just greeting each other!"

"Well, there are more appropriate ways of greeting your friends, as you should well know. Didn't you learn anything in finishing school?"

A rather sulky look crossed Elizabeth's face, and Will could see she was about to retort with something that she would probably regret saying later. He decided it was time for him to intervene.

"Governor Swann," he said with a slight bow, before Elizabeth could get a word in, "welcome back to Port Royal. I hope your voyage was good?"

Will's distraction seemed to work. The governor gave him a tight smile and said, "Hello, Mr. Turner. Yes, I suppose it was good sailing and mostly calm seas, though I have to say that I am glad to be on dry land once more. Wouldn't you say so, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth seemed to have caught on to Will's attempt to distract her father, because she played along. "I rather enjoyed the voyage, father. Though I am glad to be back home again." She smiled at Will then, and he felt his heart speed up again as he smiled back.

Before the conversation could continue, a man in a Navy uniform appeared at the governor's side. "Sir, your carriage is waiting. I'll have your luggage sent up to the house in a separate wagon."

"Ah, thank you, Captain Norrington. Elizabeth and I are greatly fatigued from the journey, so I'll leave the arrangements for the luggage in your more than capable hands." He smiled, glancing at Will, before continuing. "I wonder, Captain, if you remember Will Turner? He was once under your command."

Captain Norrington looked at Will as well, smiling. "Indeed, sir, how could I forget the cabin boy of the Dauntless? The circumstances, you must admit, were rather unique." The governor chuckled. "But now you're the apprentice of Mr. Brown, the blacksmith, are you not?"

"That's right, sir," Will answered.

"His work is the finest in the town, but I hear that you have almost caught up to him in the quality of your craftsmanship."

"You pay me a great compliment to say so, sir, but I still have much to learn from my master."

"I see that modesty is one of your virtues, young man."

The corner of Will's mouth turned up. "As is honesty."

Governor Swann and Captain Norrington both laughed at that, and Elizabeth smiled at him, which made his heart start pounding again. Then the governor turned to the captain and said, "Would you mind escorting my daughter to the carriage? I'd just like to have a quick word with Mr. Turner."

"Of course, sir." With that, Captain Norrington held out his arm for Elizabeth.

Elizabeth didn't look too happy about leaving so soon, but she seemed to think that she had aggravated her father enough for one day because she accepted without comment. "I'll see you later, Will."

"Until then, Elizabeth." Will had also hoped for a longer meeting, but for now he was content with just having held her after so long without seeing her. He watched her walk away with Captain Norrington, and probably would have gazed after her all the way up the pier if Governor Swann hadn't cleared his throat to recall his attention.

"Well, Mr. Turner," began the governor, "I have to say it's good to see you after so long. You look well. I trust the apprenticeship is still going satisfactorily?"

"Yes, sir. Though it's been a rough year. My master's daughter died a few months ago."

"Oh, I'm very sorry to hear that. Please give my condolences to your master."

So Governor Swann hadn't known about the death of Mr. Brown's daughter. Will had written about it in a letter to Elizabeth after it happened. That her father didn't know probably meant that Elizabeth hadn't told him about the letters. Will wasn't surprised. Elizabeth tended to hide her breaches in etiquette from her father rather than argue with him about them.

"I will, sir. I'm just glad I can be there for him when he needs me."

"Yes, it's good at least that he has you helping him. I can only imagine what I would do should anything befall Elizabeth." Governor Swann sighed and glanced up at the sky as Will forced the unwelcome thought of Elizabeth dying from his mind. "Speaking of which," the governor continued, "I know that you and Elizabeth have been…close since you met those years ago at sea."

"Yes, sir, Elizabeth has been a good friend to me." The governor began to walk slowly up the pier toward the carriage, and Will followed.

"And that's good! But I'm afraid that I have been a bit more lax than I should have in enforcing proper etiquette with the two of you. Oh, it was fine when you were children, but now that you're older…well, people will think it's unseemly. You both ought to act like proper adults now. Especially since the two of you are…from different classes. Do you understand?"

Will listened to Governor Swann's little speech in confusion and with a growing sense of foreboding. When he mentioned Will and Elizabeth being 'from different classes,' Will felt something constrict painfully in his chest. He looked down at the ground so as not to meet the eye of the older man. "You are saying you don't want us to be friends anymore?"

"Oh no, my dear lad, that's not what I meant at all!" The governor sounded surprised, and Will was somewhat relieved to hear it. "I just want the two of you to follow proper protocol when you see each other, that's all. For your part, that just means making only polite contact, which, I'm afraid, does not include hugs. And you mustn't call her by her first name; rather, you should call her Miss Swann. Anything else is too…familiar for polite society."

Will could feel his face flushing with embarrassment at his conduct with Elizabeth just minutes ago. "Sir, I…apologize for my rude behavior."

"No need to apologize, young man; it's really my fault for letting such behavior continue for so long unchecked. And I know that I won't have any trouble from you; you're a good lad. It's Elizabeth that's going to need discipline in this area." He smiled wryly. They had now come near the street, where Will could see Captain Norrington handing Elizabeth up into the carriage. "Well then, that's all I wanted to say. Good day, Mr. Turner. We'll see each other again soon, I'm sure."

"Good day, Governor," Will responded, inclining his head. He watched as the governor climbed into the carriage and it rattled down the street, bearing Elizabeth away from him.

Will made his way slowly back to the shop without being conscious of his surroundings. He did not acknowledge anyone he knew with a nod or wave this time; in fact, he was so deep in thought that he wasn't even aware of them if he passed them.

He finally arrived at the blacksmith's shop and entered. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it. His eyes swept the shop, taking in the furnace, the tools, the donkey. Finally, they landed on Mr. Brown, sitting on a barrel by the forge, a flask held loosely in his fingers, sound asleep. Will smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. "Right where I left you."

Will removed the flask from Mr. Brown's hand and set it on the floor, shook him into some semblance of consciousness, and then helped him up to his bedroom behind and above the shop. He left a pitcher of water for him for when he should awake, then went back to the shop. He was very behind in his work, and now was as good a time as ever to start catching up.

However, instead of going straight to work, he slumped onto the barrel that his master had recently vacated. He heaved a sigh as he stared into the flames. This afternoon had begun with such happiness and now—now Will didn't know what to think.

He loved her. He knew now that what he had suspected for the past year was true. He was certain that no other woman could make him feel the way he had when he had held her close to him. There was no denying it to himself anymore. Now he wanted nothing more than to find a way to tell her and find out if she might return his feelings. She certainly still thought of him as a close friend—this afternoon had proved that. But Will wasn't sure if she felt more than that for him. They had always, from day one, called each other by their first names, and hugs and other casual touches were nothing new either. So her behavior at their reunion didn't necessarily mean that she felt the same way about him as he did about her. He longed to know what she felt.

But then, did it even matter? Did it matter whether she loved him, when there was no way they could be together? Her father had made that clear in his words to Will. He and Elizabeth were from 'different classes.' She was far above him and out of his reach. She should marry a lord, not a blacksmith. He wasn't good enough for her, and there was no way he ever could be. He knew that. He had always known that; he just hadn't wanted to think about it. Love had blinded him to reality.

Governor Swann would never approve a match between his daughter and a blacksmith; it would not be proper in the circles of society Elizabeth should inhabit. The governor had said that he didn't mean for them to end their friendship, but isn't that more or less what he was asking by requiring them to follow proper etiquette? If they had followed proper protocol from the beginning, Elizabeth and Will would never have been friends at all. Young ladies don't befriend penniless, shipwrecked urchins or blacksmiths' apprentices. If he and Elizabeth were to behave properly now, it would indeed mean a severe curtailment of their friendship. Using formal language, never calling each other by name, never touching, never being alone together—they may as well not be friends at all.

So how to proceed? He loved Elizabeth, but he also respected Governor Swann. He was Elizabeth's father and the governor of Jamaica, but Will respected him even more because he had been so kind to Will when he was just a lad and had even found him the good position as Mr. Brown's apprentice. He wanted to declare his love for Elizabeth, but knew that her father would not approve—in fact, he would probably be offended, which is not how Will wanted to repay the man for his generosity. Wait! What if Elizabeth were also offended? Indeed, how could she not be offended by his interest in her? A lowly blacksmith in love with a lady of her standing? It was pathetic, if nothing else. She would probably pity him, and he couldn't stand that.

Now that he thought of it, he began to realize what might occur if he made his feelings known to Elizabeth and she did not return them. There were a number of ways it might play out, but in all the scenarios Will could think of, his easy friendship with Elizabeth would become awkward and strained and eventually fade. His feelings would come between them and drive them apart. He didn't want that to happen, for their friendship to fade. But it would probably happen anyway if her father had his way.

He wondered if it would in fact be for the best if he just told her of his feelings and was honest with her, clearing the air between them. If she didn't feel the same, it wouldn't matter because their friendship would be ruined anyway by the barrier of etiquette, and at least Will would have been honest.

But on the slight, very unlikely chance that she did return his feelings, what then? As Will contemplated this new scenario, he realized that this might be the worst one of all. Loving her and being powerless to act on that love was bad enough. But to know that she loved him in return and that they could never be together! The thought alone was almost unbearable. He would have to watch her marry another man and have his children, all the while knowing that that man could have been him, if he were only good enough for her.

So then it would be better not to say anything, right? It's bad enough that they can't be friends anymore like they once were—telling her of his love would only make things worse. Probably. Maybe.

Will sighed and shook his head in frustration, then looked out the window. Night had fallen while he was sitting there confusing himself. It was a good thing he had work to do, because he badly needed the distraction. He got up and started pumping the bellows to get the forge going good and hot. It was going to be a long night.