Will Turner smacked the sword blade with an iron hammer, sending red gold flecks of light soaring into the gloomy air. A tall man of twenty-one, his long black hair fell to his muscular shoulders (A/N- Ah I suck at romantic description. ). He grasped a pair of tongs and lifted the glowing red blade into a barrel of water beside the forge. The liquid hissed and bubbled angrily, sending steam gushing into the air. He removed the now cool blade and examined it. It was a scimitar, perfect in design and deadly in the hands of someone who knew how to use it (Or anyone else who was enthusiastic enough). It hilt was ivory with intricate gold designs wrapping themselves around the hilt. The blade was two and a half feet of burning silver with a wickedly sharp edge and hilt.
Satisfied, He placed the newly forged sword on the forge to cool properly and removed his leather gloves. A prickle at the nape of his neck told him someone was watching him. He turned quickly, but relaxed when he saw his wife standing at the door to the forge, smiling. He strode over to the door and embraced her tightly, her wonderful smell of cinnamon enveloping him. He released her and looked concerned into her face.
Her face was as beautiful as ever, though her eyes were filled with bone tiredness and shadowed by dark bags. But beyond that was deep set joy that only a mother can have. "Our son is sleeping?" he asked, trying hard not to sound too hopeful. Elizabeth, however, caught the tone; she poked him lightly in the stomach, an expression of Mock Rage on her face. "I don't see why you're so hopeful. I'm the one who gets up in the middle of the night. But yes, he is sleeping" she added, voice now soft. She glanced over his shoulder at the magnificent blade that lay on the forge. Will's hobby of making swords has not dimmed when he had become the Governor-to-be. And he still made the finest swords in the Caribbean. They were interrupted by the pompous Butler who poked his head around the door.
"Sir, Ma'am, There is a girl who has a package for you." Will frowned slightly as the girl shuffled in behind the butler. The butler gave a small shrug behind her. The girl was dressed in old rags, and was in her middle teens. Brown, lank hair hung in front of her face so that it was hidden. The girl was holding a grubby package. She trust it into Will's hands, muttering "Me master says I was to give this to ye. I'll show me self out." The girl turned and fled. The butler shook his head. "She said the man who gave it to her said she had to deliver it personally." He said. Will nodded. The younger plebe children of Port Royal acted as messengers. It was a major part of most families income. He looked at the small package in his arms. It was unsigned. He opened it and a thin gold chain fell out onto the floor. Will picked it up, confused. Elizabeth craned for a better look. "Who sent that?" she asked curiously.
"There was no name or message"
"Odd" said Elizabeth.
"Indeed." Said the butler stiffly. "Should I go and get the girl back?"
"No, don't worry." Said Will. He pocketed it, still wondering. A gurgle came from the room to their left. Elizabeth sighed and passed the two men as she exited the room. Will followed her into the babies room.
The Baby's cot was placed in the center of the room. A grizzled sound came from within. Elizabeth gently picked up her son and bounced him, making soothing noises. He quieted. Will came up behind her as she put him back into his cot. Their son, James (A/N- Is Norrington called James? I can't remember. Oh well, who cares) was sleeping again. His hair was dirty blond, with soft curls. Will saw bits of himself in the babies face, but bits of Elizabeth too. He hugged her around the waist. "He's beautiful he whispered, and kissed her on the neck. He could not remember when he felt more content.
The golden sun had disappeared behind the azure ocean, and the air lay thick and cool on the soft sands. Those who boasted an honest profession were sleeping, while those without morals crept the streets, doing their evil business. The only sounds around the governors house was the chirp and chatter of night birds, and the soft steady crunch of someone making their way towards the house from an open side gate. A watchman on the wall heard nothing, and missed the shadow that flitted across the pass towards the front door. The person stopped, glancing around furtively as they pulled a set of lockpicks from a patched and threadbare pocket. It was the work of a moment, and the door drifted open. The shadow slipped through, like drifting smoke on the wind.
The silent intruder crept up the staircase, bare feet not making a sound. At the top the shadow stopped, seemingly unsure. They moved forward and began to silently open doors, searching. The first room was empty, with just a few bookcases. The second door had snoring coming from within, so its door was left untouched. The third room was for some reason ignored. The next door however was opened cautiously. The room contained a cot. The shadow ghosted inside and approached the cot, every line on the body tense. After checking all the room's corners, the trespasser snatched the baby and headed quickly for the door.
Halfway there, the slightest creak was heard from outside. The thief froze, then leaped behind the door into the soft shadows. Just in time. A tall woman entered, her hair the same hue as the baby that rested in the thief's arms. Cursing inwardly, the thief slipped silently around the door edge as the women approached the cot and ran like a demon, all thoughts of silence forgotten. When they had reached the bottom of the stairs a scream shattered the silence like a hedge hammer. The Thief had vanished into the night by the time Elizabeth reached the open door.
How's that for a first chapter? If you want more, you had better review! Please?