Author's Note

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I hope you like my story, enough to review anyway. J I haven't read that much Pirates of the Caribbean Fanfiction, and I don't know what's been done a million times already, so I hope you bear with me and correct any mistakes that I may make. I only saw the movie once but I loved it and decided that I wanted to write a story for it, because if trends continue –haha- this section could become the new LOTR section (as Orlando Bloom is in both!). I'm going to try to make my character different from all the other colonial girl characters that I have come across, because let me tell you, every single one is a spunky, rebellious chick with a complete mind of her own. Not that I'm not all for that, but not every girl in colonial times could have been like that, or else the nation would have been completely conquered by bonnet-wearing girls in those awful penny loafers. Elizabeth from PotC is exactly that (I think). It's like the Mary Sue has been totally reincarnated back into colonial times and I want to throw up every time I read one of those characters. I hope you shared enough of my sentiment to continue reading. I'll try to update soon. By the way, this is PRE-POTC and I don't know what the name of the blacksmith was so I invented one.

Disclaimer

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I only own the plot and the original characters. The rest belongs to Walt Disney Pictures, etc, etc.

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The Loved and the Lost

Chapter One: Like a Ghost from a Nightmare

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            Serenity Williams was not the governor's daughter. She felt as if she was the farthest thing it as she crouched down to the straw-covered floor of their barn and tried to get her hands under the cow without being trampled for the last time. Milking this particular animal was always a chore, but she had never been this uncooperative. The cow was snorting and kicking the ground and protesting in every way that a cow could possibly protest in without being able to speak a word.

            It would be refreshing to be someone important, Serenity thought. They don't have to deal with this nonsense.

            But Serenity's father was a working-class man, a gentleman, but a worker nonetheless. Therefore, her life was ridiculously unremarkable. She had no out-of-the-ordinary friends or any strange plans or secrets, unless you count that crush that she had had since she was thirteen on the blacksmith's apprentice as a secret.

            Giving up, Serenity trudged out of the barn and into the sunlight. The ocean sparkled blue in the rays of the sun, and there was nothing that could be more appealing to her at that moment that sticking her feet in the surf for a moment. A small smile crossed her face as she pinned her hair back up from where it had fallen in a wavy brown mass around her shoulders. She would ask Anise to take over fighting with the cow for a moment while she walked down to the beach. She found Anise sitting on the back porch of their home, humming a soft tune under her breath and twirling knitting needles around her fingers.

            "Anise," Serenity said, walking towards the steps where the servant girl was sitting.

            "Miss," Anise said, springing to her feet and dropping her yarn creation onto the stairs.

            "Could you milk the cow for a few minutes? She's not letting me anywhere near her today, and I just want to give my hands a break. I'll be back soon," Serenity promised.

            "Of course," Anise said quietly, leaving the needles on the stairs as she hurried off to do her bidding. Serenity hated that sometimes, how they refused to treat her as herself instead of some rich brat who hadn't done a chore in her life. She peered closer at the yarn stitches- Anise was talented for a girl of fourteen.

            Serenity peeked into the barn where Anise was sitting with the cow, milking her like it was any other day. She grinned at Anise as she passed by, who offered a shy, hesitant smile in return. She was one of three helpers around their home, which was all they could afford, which was why Serenity had to do chores and other everyday things.

            The sand of the beach was warm to the soles of her feet as she walked along the line where the wet sand met the dry sand, her skirts bunched up in one hand and her shoes held in the other. The small waves soothed her tense muscles as she walked into the smaller waves, her toes feeling out the pebbles on the bottom. She panicked and lifted her skirts higher as a slightly larger wave broke onto her foot, leaving her lower leg exposed to the sun. She stuck her toes out from under her hem and lifted them a few inches off the ground, drying them in the warm rays.

            "Serenity," a warm voice said from behind her shoulder. Serenity jumped out of the waves and turned around to face the speaker. It was only Will, however, a fishing rod held in his right hand and a small box in his left. He had no shoes on either, and his hat lay several yards behind him on the sand.

            "Hello, Will," she said.

            "What are you doing here without your shoes on?" Will asked, looking pointedly at the hand that held her shoes in them.

            "I could ask you the same question," she answered, smiling. Will grinned- that same lopsided grin that he had been smiling all the years between the day that she met him and this day. "Did you catch anything?" she asked.

            "Nah, not today," Will said, shifting the rod in his hands. "There's nothing in the ocean today, on account of the hurricane that's still out on the ocean. The waves will just keep getting bigger, and the fish will just keep swimming deeper until it's gone north enough." Serenity nodded. She had heard people speak of the storm in the town's only general store.

            "They say it's the storm of the century," Serenity said, squinting out at the black clouds that had been gathering just above the horizon for about a week.

            "I agree," Will said as a gust of wind tore across the beach, causing the three-masters that were docked nearby to creak and rattle. "I'd hate to be at sea in a storm like that," he continued, looking out in the same direction that she was.

            "Ah, well," Serenity said, "a storm's good for business." Her father ran a small inn in the heart of their small town, populated mostly by fisherman and sailors who could only barter with the fish that they had caught the day before. "Maybe my father will be able to put a coin in his pocket instead of a salted bass."

            Will laughed. "Times can be hard," he agreed, "but we'll pull through. We always have."

            "Yes, we always have," Serenity laughed softly. "I just wish I could help more…that's why I'm getting a job."

            "Are you really?" Will said, smiling brightly at her good fortune.

            "I'm going to be a governess," said Serenity. "Joy, joy."

            Will laughed. "To who?"

            "The governor's nieces, two twin girls named Elisa and Christa. I hope I can tell them apart," she added dejectedly.

            "You'll be fine," said Will.

            "It's nice to know that someone thinks that way," Serenity said as a drop of rain landed on her shoulder. Will looked at the sky, which was gray with rain. "Is it the storm already?" she asked, looking at the billowing clouds above them.

            "Not quite yet," Will said, "but she'll get here within a few days. I'll walk you back to your house."

            "You don't have to do that," Serenity protested as Will put his hat on his head and tucked the rest of his fishing gear under his arm. "I got here alone well enough."

            He shook his head at her, the wavy ends of his hair blowing in the strengthening wind. "Of course I'm going to walk you home, Serenity. It's not like I'm some pirate that's going to leave you here alone in the rain," he said, laughing as she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. The rain blew into their faces as they continued along the dust-covered road that was the main street of their town, which all the businesses were located on. Serenity could hear the creaking of the various signs as they swung back and forth on their poles.

            "I must show you this sword I've made," Will said excitedly as they happened upon the blacksmith's building.

            "You're making swords now? That's wonderful!" Serenity said.

            "Come on," Will urged, tugging his elbow. "It will only take a minute."

            Serenity glanced in the general direction of the inn, and as she saw no harm in it, she followed Will through the doors and into the dim room that served as their workshop. Will dropped his gear onto an empty table and disappeared for a moment into the shadows, emerging with a glinting sheath in his hands. She ran her index finger along the metal sheath as he drew the sword out of it and turned the blade protectively away from her.

            "It's beautiful," she said admiringly. The hilt was gilded with a pattern like waves rolling in the ocean. Will swung it in a little arc through the air.

            "It's a far improvement from the first one I made," Will said proudly, swinging it skillfully in a little arc through the air. Serenity smiled.

            "I didn't know you knew how to swordfight, William Turner," she said playfully.

            "Barnaby said it will help catch me a woman," said Will in a mixed expression of doubtfulness and hopefulness.

            "Not like you'll have any trouble with that," Serenity said, laughing. Will smiled and sheathed the sword. He placed it on the table and then took Serenity's arm again.

            "You really don't have to walk me home, you know," she said as they went back out into the rain. "The inn's only a hundred yards away!"

            "You never know what might be lurking between here and a hundred yards from here," he replied in mock seriousness. Serenity laughed as the outline of the inn grew apparent through the quickening rain.

            "Thank you, William," she grinned.

            "Goodbye, Serenity," he said, kissing her on the cheek. Serenity smiled at him and patted his shoulder and then she went inside.

            The parlor of the inn was dim, as there was only a cluster of stubby candles sitting on the table that stood next to the stairs. Serenity hung her bonnet on one of the pegs and grabbed one of the candles. Her mother would probably be in the kitchen, where she usually was at this hour. There was one woman who cooked in the kitchen, but four hands were more adept at making dinner for an entire family, servants, and usually a few guests that were spending the night.

            "Hello, Mother," Serenity said, seeing her mother clearly in the bright kitchen. She put her candle on the table as her mother wiped her hands off on a wet cloth and came over to her daughter.

            "Serenity," her mother said in greeting as she searched her daughter's face for signs of cold or fever. "What were you doing out in the storm? You know that the last time you were out in the rain you couldn't get out of bed for days," she continued, a wrinkled of worry appearing over her eyes.

            "I only walked down to the beach for a moment, before it began raining," Serenity said, stepping away from her mother's concerned eyes and grabbing a knife so that she could chop the pile of vegetables that were waiting on the counter. "Will was there and he walked me home."

            "Yes, Will's a good lad," her mother said approvingly.

            "We're friends, mother," Serenity said defensively.

            "Well, if you decide to marry him, you know that you have your father's blessing," her mother continued stubbornly. "He is making a living for himself, and he's scarcely older than you are."

            "Yes, I know," Serenity said, deciding not to tell her mother about the detour into the blacksmith's workshop. Her mother would have a fit- 'alone without a chaperone!' Mrs. Williams could be like that sometimes- she would be willing to bless any marriage, but if you should be alone with them, then they were unfit to be in the same room together with a bunch of other people. And for once Serenity didn't feel guilty about telling a lie- she knew that nothing had happened between herself and William Turner, so why should her mother have to worry about it?

            She finished slicing a tomato and placed the thin pieces in a bowl for her mother to add to their stew and then she wandered off into her room. The room was cold and looked rather forbidding until Serenity lit the candles that she had placed around her room. Then she sat at her desk and made a few notes in her diary about what she had done that day, and some of her base feelings. That day, however, she found it hard to concentrate on the words she was writing on the page and her quill slipped out of her hand mid-sentence.

            What is bothering me today? Serenity thought, placing a head to her forehead. Maybe I do have a fever.

            All she could think about was how she just wanted to see William Turner's sweet face again.

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            William searched all over the shop for Barnaby, his 'teacher,' but he was unable to be found. It was still a little early to be at the bar, but even so, that's where he probably was. Since Will didn't feel like venturing out into the cold and rain again, he began shaping another blade on his working table. He dreamt up patterns that he could engrave into the hilt on this one, something to make it different from the other swords that he had made. The rain tapped on the window as he shaped the silver metals in his strong hands, shaping with such love a blade that would kill. His mind wandered from his work periodically, dancing over what he had done that day and what he wanted to do the next day. He could probably continue working on the blade, since he wouldn't be able to start the hilt until the blade was finished. He thought of Elizabeth.

            Elizabeth Swann was one of the two women in his life that he actually cared about, the other being Serenity Williams. Elizabeth's beautiful features had captivated him ever since he had first laid eyes on her that day that she had awoken him on board the boat. He had really been in love with her since the first time he saw her. The problem was that they never saw each other, ever- her being the governor's daughter and him being the blacksmith's apprentice. Will sighed as he pounded the metal flat on his working table. This train of thought had been running through his head for a long time. He never really had seen Elizabeth since that day on the boat, not for more than a minute. He had glimpsed her in her carriage, and once standing at the balcony of her home as he rode past, and a third time greeting the commodore with her father as he returned from yet another voyage for the British Navy. But still, she remained a sort of mysterious figure that couldn't be caught, a kind of feminine romantic hero that had disappeared into his past like a ghost from a nightmare.

            Will pounded his feelings away into the metal as he worked long into the night, transferring all his feelings into that particular blade as the rain fell against his window in a never-ending downpour.