Harboring a Pirate
By Serena-chan
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, save my imagination, of course. This applies to all chapters that may appear under this story's heading.
Summary: Will and Jack meet thirteen years before their adventures in Port Royal, back when Jack was the new captain of his father's ship. (Cute little scene where Jack gets his precious hat.) Now, during a chance meeting in the blacksmith's shop, Will begins to remember his father's eccentric captain. (Curse of the Black Pearl)
Chapter 1: Still Doing Stupid Things
William Turner made his way through the streets of Port Royal, heading back to the blacksmith's shop. He'd been delivering some pieces of silverware and a repaired candlestick to Judge Eberleigh's estate when he'd heard the news; Elizabeth Swann had nearly died twice that afternoon—once from nearly drowning and again at the hands of some filthy pirate.
He clenched his fists in anger, his nails digging into his palms. It made him sick to think of the only woman he loved at the mercy of some bastard pirate.
Pirate…there'd been something about a pirate in the dream he'd had last night…a dream about his father…
Will had very few memories of his father, and those he did have were fuzzy, at best. After all, he'd only been seven years of age when he'd watched his father sail away, never to return.
As he entered the smithy, he cast a weary eye over the drunken form of his employer. The amount of bottles on the floor around him told Will that he'd be lucky if Mr. Brown woke up before sundown.
Amos Brown had been a kind master to him and had taught him well, but ever since his wife died during childbirth nearly a year ago, he had taken to drinking himself into a stupor. Will didn't mind though. A tragedy like that would upset anyone, and besides, it gave him a chance to practice his craft with items that an apprentice normally wouldn't be allowed to touch—the sword for Commodore Norrington's promotional ceremony being a prime example.
Will's attention was suddenly drawn to a strange hat lying on the workbench. He wasn't sure whose it was or how it had gotten there, but something about its shape tickled at the back of his mind.
As he reached out to touch it, however, the flat of a blade slapped him sharply across the back of his hand. Will looked up into a pair of sinfully black eyes, and his blood ran cold.
"You're the one they're hunting," he said slowly. "The pirate…"
"You seem somewhat familiar," the other man drawled. "Have I threatened you before?"
"I make a point of avoiding familiarity with pirates," Will countered, glaring at the man who had threatened his beloved.
"Ah, well then it would be a shame to put a black mark on yer record, so if ye'll excuse me—"
The man made to leave, and Will snatched up a nearby sword, holding it out menacingly. The pirate gazed back at him with impossibly dark eyes before a gold-toothed smirk began to form on his lips. He drew his sword, clearly amused.
"Do you think this wise, boy, crossing blades with a pirate?"
The man touched the edge of his sword to Will's and ran it up and down as if he were caressing Will's blade with his own. Those magnificent eyes that had been locked with the smith's now raked hungrily over the boy's lithe muscular frame.
Will wasn't sure why, but he felt there was something almost…obscene in the way the pirate eyed his body and ran his sword over his opponent's. It sent a thrill down Will's spine that he couldn't quite explain.
He lunged forward in an attack which the pirate parried easily and shot into a counter-attack. Will blocked, slashed, and then they were off.
Ever fiber of Will's being seemed to come alive in this moment. His muscles reacted instantly, humming to the singing of steel as it reverberated down his arm. He thrust, parried, attacked, lunged, countered; he was king of this domain, and he'd finally met an opponent skilled enough to prove a challenge.
He side-stepped, effectively blocking the man from escaping out the back entrance. Will smiled as he watched the pirate eye the large bolt on the front door—he had him trapped! Now, all he had to do was get the sword away from him and…
The pirate suddenly darted to the side, slipping into the living quarters that adjoined the smithy. Will cursed and hurried after him.
As he did so, his eyes fell momentarily on one of the many worktables in the room. This one was filled with completed items ready for delivery. Among the odd bits of tools and silverware were some items that he'd been commissioned to make for the prison. He took a moment to quickly snatch up a pair of handcuffs.
Throwing open the door to his small bedroom, Will found the pirate making ready to climb out the window. He lunged forward, sword out, but the man suddenly wheeled around, blocking the young smith's sword with his own.
As they dueled once more, Will let his eyes dart around his sparse chambers. There was a long pole made of wood stretching from the middle of the floor all the way up to the rafters, serving as a means of support against some rotting beams in the ceiling until they could be properly replaced.
Perfect.
Will twisted to the side, placing his back against the wooden post. The pirate lunged after him, and Will pulled away at the last second causing the man to nearly slam his face against the wood and drop his sword. Will took advantage of his position by kicking away the sword and grasping the man's wrists, clapping the irons around them on either side of the pole, trapping him in place. His eyes fell on a pistol tucked into the man's belt, and he quickly relieved him of that as well before stepping back to a safer distance.
The pirate tugged at the chains for a moment, testing the sturdiness of the post that held him in place. Those obsidian orbs rested on his young captor, not angrily, but calculating. Will could almost see the gears turning in this strange man's head, and yet…he felt certain that there was something familiar about that intense stare.
"Going to alert the Commodore that I'm here?"
"Yes," Will said carefully.
"In that case, I'd like me hat back."
Will stared at him, completely taken aback. Whatever he'd been expecting the man to say, that most certainly wasn't it. What did a bloody hat matter when he was about to be arrested and hung? Could it be some kind of trick to escape?
"Why?"
Suddenly anger flashed in the pirate's eyes. "It was given to me by me best mate," he said threateningly. "The hat stays with me."
Will wasn't sure why, but he believed him. There was a certain amount of sincerity lurking around those dark brown eyes. Keeping a wary eye on trained on the pirate, he moved out into the shop.
The hat was still lying where he had first seen it. As he picked it up, however, a memory suddenly flashed before his eyes; a memory of stiff, new leather, less faded…
He put his hand out on the workbench to steady himself as wave upon wave of memory came cascading over him with an almost dizzying effect. That same hat, so large in his small hands…his father's laughter…the young, powerful captain with captivating eyes…an older guard's voice saying, "The man we're after is a vicious, blood-thirsty pirate."
Pirate…the pirate currently trapped in Will's bedroom…the pirate with those amazingly dark eyes like those of the young Captain Jack…
Will made his way back to his room in a sort of daze. He stood for a moment in the doorway, the hat clutched in his hands, staring at the man he now recognized as his father's sea captain.
Jack had changed in the past thirteen years. He was no longer in that awkward transition phase between boy and man. The stubble on his face had been allowed to grow out into a full mustache and a peculiar twin-braided beard. He still kept his hair tied back with a red bandana, but some of his hair had matted to form dreadlocks. Other strands were braided or had beads twisted into them or simply hung loose around his shoulders.
Will let his eyes sweep over the strong, muscular frame, partially hidden by loose, mismatched clothes. Jack was quite a handsome man, he decided, although in a rather odd way.
Slowly, almost as though he were in a dream, he crossed over to Jack and carefully placed the hat upon the older man's head, just as he'd done when he was seven years old. The Captain's eyes widened slightly in surprise, and Will thought he could see a faint light of recognition in those kohl-smudged depths.
He had just opened his mouth to say something when a loud crash snapped him back into the present. Not stopping to think, he whirled around and ran out into the forge, slamming his bedroom door behind him. Several armed guards, led by Commodore Norrington, had broken through the front door.
"He's just gone that way—out the back," Will said, pointing.
The men dashed out in pursuit. The Commodore stayed behind long enough to give Will an annoyed glare.
"With your swordsmanship skills, Mr. Turner, you should have been able to detain him for us."
"I would have…only he was hiding here when I arrived. He took me by surprise."
Norrington nodded and moved to the back door just as a guard was reentering. "Any sign of Sparrow?"
"Not yet, sir," the man answered. "We're not sure which way he went."
"Well, tell the men to split up, then," Norrington ordered.
The guard saluted and left. The Commodore started to follow him but paused in the doorway, his eyes sweeping over the smithy once more. He eyed the darkened rafters uncertainly.
"You're sure he left, Mr. Turner? He'd not still here hiding somewhere?"
"I'd hardly be harboring a pirate, Commodore," Will said angrily.
Norrington gave himself a little shake. "Of course not. I doubt he'll try to come back here, but all the same, keep your eyes open. Alert one of my men if you see any sign of him."
Will breathed a sigh of relief as the Commodore left. He stood quite still for a moment wondering if he'd gone mad.
He'd just helped a wanted man evade the law…twice. A pirate; the same pirate that had threatened Elizabeth. Why did he feel this fierce need to protect this strange man that he didn't even really know?
The answer came back to him almost at once. He wanted to know what had become of his father, and this man was his last remaining link to his past. A small part of his brain tried to tell him that that was no excuse for aiding in piracy, but he chose to ignore that part of himself.
He crossed to the worktable that he'd taken the handcuffs from and picked up the corresponding keys. He made his way to his bedroom door, opening it, and standing in the doorway uncertainly for a moment.
Jack had sat down, cross-legged, with his hands stretched out in front of him, still cuffed to the post. He looked up at Will thoughtfully.
"Why did ye do that?"
"I don't know," Will said softly.
The pirate grinned, and Will noticed that two of his teeth had been replaced with gold. "Still doing stupid things, I see."
Will didn't reply. He moved forward, carefully unlocking the iron cuffs.
The pirate tried again. "You're a long way from home, young William."
"England's not my home anymore," Will said simply. He added on an afterthought, "So 'Jack Sparrow' is your full name, then? I never knew."
"Captain Jack Sparrow," the older man corrected.
Will didn't have time to reply, for at that moment one of Norrington's men passed by outside the smithy, quite close to Will's window. Mercifully, the guard didn't look in, but it gave both Will and Jack a start.
Will quickly pulled the shutters closed and fumbled in the dim light for a small oil lamp that he kept on a table near his bed. As the room was once more filled with light, he noticed that Jack was still staring at the window thoughtfully.
"Not much chance of escape right now," he mused, more to himself than to Will. "Perhaps I can slip away after dark…"
Will chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully. "They'll still have guards posted everywhere, even at night, until they're sure you've left Port Royal. By tomorrow night they'll have completed their search and lowered their guard…if you stay here and don't cause any more trouble, that is."
Jack appeared to think this through before nodding his approval and sitting down on Will's bed, leaning his back against the wall. "Well, I guess I'm here till then." He gave Will a long, studying look. "You're yer father's son all right, and I must say that ye impressed me with yer command of a sword. I never thought I'd meet anyone more skilled than yer father…until today, that is." He gave Will a meaningful look.
"My father…" Will began, unable to hold back his curiosity any longer. "Jack, what happened to him?"
"Yer father?" Jack shifted uneasily and suddenly wouldn't meet Will's gaze.
"Yes, the last time I saw him was when he sailed away with you. What happened after you left port?"
The older man sighed, rubbing his forehead with long fingers before meeting Will's gaze. "The truth, lad, is that I don't know what became of yer father, although I do have me suspicions. About a month after we left England, there was a mutiny aboard me ship led by my first mate. Ev'ryone was against me—said I was too young and foolish to be captain—only Bill stood up for me. They locked him in the brig, and that was the last I saw of him. Soon after, we sailed upon a deserted isle, an' they left me there. I've not seen Bill or me ship since."
Will's heart clenched painfully as he asked, "Do you think they killed him?"
"It's the usual thing in cases like that," Jack muttered bitterly.
Will sank down to sit on the bed next to Jack, feeling suddenly very weary. It hurt knowing the truth, and yet in some ways it was a relief. He'd known in his heart for a long time that his father must be dead, but there had always been that nagging little pull at the back of his mind whispering, 'whatif…?' Not knowing had been more painful than what he was experiencing now.
Another question from his childhood rose to the surface of his mind; one that he'd often thought about, but didn't dare voice. Now, years later, the Commodore's accusations of Jack being a pirate only served to reinforce his worst childhood fears.
"Jack…" he began slowly, not sure if he really wanted an answer. "Have you always been a pirate?—I mean, were you a pirate all those years ago when we first met?"
A mere nod of the head was all the answer he received, but it was all he really needed. He pressed on.
"And Captain Richards, who came before you, was he—?"
Another nod.
"Oh." Will swallowed hard. "Then…my father was a pirate."
This piece of news stung more sharply than when he'd learned of his father's death just minutes ago. After all, he'd looked up to his father his entire life, and now, after all these years, to find out that he was really some common criminal…
He remained deep in thought for quite some time. He had been lied to about his father's profession, but as far as he knew, that was the only lie his parents ever told him. Will always remembered his father as being a kind and just man who kept his word and was a loving husband and father. Those were the reasons Will admired him, and even though his father had been a pirate, those qualities still rang true.
"Somehow," Will said slowly, "even with that knowledge, I can't think any less of him."
"Ye shouldn't," Jack said with conviction. "He was a good man—a good pirate, but a good man."
Jack reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a bottle full of amber colored liquid. Popping it open, he took a long swig from it, the potent smell of alcohol filling the air. Though he'd never tried it, Will recognized the smell as rum—a favorite of Mr. Brown's.
The pirate captain turned to offer the bottle to Will, who just smiled and shook his head. Jack grinned wickedly, and Will thought he could detect a challenging glint in the older man's gaze.
"Come on, whelp. Are ye yer father's son or not?"
Will eyed the bottle with distaste before hesitantly taking a small sip. He coughed immediately, his eyes watering as the liquid burned down his throat.
Jack laughed loudly, giving him a rough pat on the back. "Ye'll get used to it."
"I don't think I'd care to get used to it," Will said, glaring indignantly at the pirate.
There was an uncomfortable stretch of silence while Will racked his brain for something to say. Jack seemed to be perfectly content with the silence as long as he had his bottle of rum to occupy him, but Will found the quiet strangely unnerving.
"When your crew marooned you," Will began hesitantly, "you said they left you on a deserted island. If it was deserted, how did you escape?"
"Sea turtles," came the immediate reply. "Strapped to my feet."
Will snorted. "Is that true?"
Jack studied him a moment with those amazingly dark eyes that were now glinting with amusement. "No," he admitted, "but it sounds good, doesn't it?" Will laughed along with him. "So tell me, Master Turner, how is it that you came to reside in this fine establishment?"
Will sighed, not sure where to begin. "Well, about three years after my father went missing, my mother fell ill with scarlet fever and died. I booked passage on a ship heading for the Caribbean, hoping to find some trace of my father. On the way, the ship was attacked by pirates."
"Pirates?" Jack interjected, taking interest. "Who were they?"
"I don't know," Will said. "They didn't board the ship—simply attacked it. That's always something that's confused me. I always thought that pirates attacked other ships for the purpose of stealing. Why blow up a perfectly good ship and all its people and supplies?"
"Perhaps the captain had a score to settle with someone on board," Jack suggested. "But still, it is unusual."
"When I first saw the ship on the horizon, I thought it was my father's ship—your ship," Will admitted. "It looked exactly the same only with black sails."
"Really? Now that's interesting," Jack said, with more than just casual interest in his voice.
"I got a glimpse of the captain. He was a much older man, so I knew I must have been mistaken about the ship. In any event, I realized that the ship I was on was carrying a large shipment of gunpowder and that it was sure to explode from all the cannon fire. I dove into the water and swam as far away from the two ships as I could. I didn't get very far before the explosion happened and debris went flying everywhere. I managed to climb onto a rather large plank of wood and watched as the pirate ship sailed away and the remainder of the merchant vessel went down in flames."
Jack let out a low whistle. "How did ye manage to get yerself out of that?"
"It was just pure luck, really," Will admitted. "A navy ship was passing by, bound for Port Royal. On it were Commodore Norrington, Governor Swann and his daughter, Elizabeth. It was she who spotted me in the water. They rescued me and brought me here. Governor Swann arranged for my apprenticeship to Mr. Brown. They've been very kind to me."
"Elizabeth Swann," Jack said thoughtfully. "Isn't she the one I threatened down at the docks today?"
Sudden anger sparked in Will. "Yes, and if you touch her again, I swear it will be the last thing you ever do."
"Easy, lad, easy," Jack put up his hands in a defeated gesture. "I'd no intention of really harming her—just using me initiative to try an' escape that bloody Commodore. Don't forget, it was me that rescued her from drowning in the first place."
"You were?" Will said, surprised. "I did hear that she'd almost drowned, but no one mentioned who rescued her."
"How do you think they caught me to begin with?" Jack asked indignantly. "A fine thanks that was!"
The smith was about to reply when Mr. Brown's voice cut through the air, making them both jump. "Will?"
Will scurried out into the forge lest his master come looking for him and find Jack in his bedroom. He hadn't, however, shut the door properly, and Jack edged closer to the crack to better hear their conversation.
"Yes, Mr. Brown?"
"What's all that racket going on outside?"
"Just the Commodore and his men, sir. I believe they're looking for an escaped criminal."
There was a dry chuckle. "One of them's slipped away, have they? Bet the Commodore was hoppin' mad." There was the sound of bottles rattling. "Help me up, boy. What time is it?"
"Late, sir," came Will's truthful reply. "Perhaps you should retire for the evening?"
Will returned a few minutes later after shutting down the forge for the evening. He found the pirate sprawled across his bed, waiting for him.
"Real respectable gentleman, that Mr. Brown," Jack muttered sarcastically.
"He hasn't always been like this," Will said in his master's defense. "Just this past year, really—ever since his wife died while giving birth to their first child. The babe itself was stillborn; nothing to be done for it."
Will sat down on the bed beside Jack and tugged off his boots. "Although he's become a burden, I can't really blame him for it. Losing your wife and your only child all in the same day…that'd been enough to unhinge anyone."
"I suppose it would," Jack said thoughtfully. "Wouldn't know meself. Never been married, and I don't have any kids…that I know of, anyway," he added with a wink. He stretched, yawning. "Time for bed, I think."
"Yes," Will agreed. "You don't mind sharing the bed, do you? I'd make up a bed on the floor only I haven't got any spare blankets."
"Not a problem," Jack said, flopping over to one side. "I don't take up much room."
After the light had been put out and the two settled as comfortably as they could be on such a small bed, Will murmured, "You never did tell me how you managed to escape that island."
"No, I didn't," Jack agreed. "Not told that to anyone, though. Perhaps someday I'll tell ye the truth."
