Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Pirates of the Caribbean (they belong to Disney), and I don't own any of the characters from any historical reference I may or may not use (they belong to themselves). I also do not have any affiliation with any people involved in the making of the Pirates of the Caribbean. Basically, I own nothing.
Will Turner was never sure how to stand in the governor's house. For that matter, he never really knew how to be in the governor's house. He lived with the man for over two years after his mother died, and the governor had seen to it that he was properly fed and clothed and educated. But that was it. There was no fatherly affection. There was no sense of family. Not without his mother. His only saving grace in those days was Elizabeth. She was still very much a child then, still scampering up trees after him and getting into wrestling matches. Will knew it was much to the governor's chagrin that his stepson was Elizabeth's first choice as a companion, rather than one of his wealthy friends' daughters. 'Proper young ladies'. And there was still a semblance of that carefree, brother-sister relationship between the two.
So Will had set out on his own when he was sixteen. The governor had tried to get him to stay, probably out of some undying loyalty to Will's mother, but Will knew that was all it was. Loyalty, a sense of duty. Will also knew that he was a painful reminder for the governor of his late wife's death. The governor had offered him a place in the navy, but Will had been wary of living his life on the sea for a long time. So, he did what he had always wanted to do. He became an apprentice to Mr. Brown, the blacksmith, and became an artist at making swords, and an expert fighter. He would one day find the man who was responsible for his mother's death, and he would get his revenge.
It was quite a scandal on the Port Royal society that the stepson of the governor had grown up to be a blacksmith.
And it was for all those reasons that Will Turner was never sure how to stand in the governor's house. On that day, as usual, he was fidgeting with anything he could get his hands on, this particular instance being a beautifully crafted iron candelabra mounted on the wall. Will reached up to finger the workmanship, and the first candlestick fell off into his hand with a resounding crack that echoed throughout the governor's massive foyer. Will stared dumbfoundedly at the offending object, and hearing footsteps on the stairs, he did what anyone would do in that situation. He hid it.
"Ah, William, it's good to see you again," though his words were kind, the tone of the governor's voice was stilted, uncomfortable.
"Good day, sir. I have your order," Will was all business. It was always this way between them. Laying the case he carried on the mahogany table in the foyer, he opened it and presented the governor with the special sword he had ordered weeks ago, for this very special occasion. The governor unsheathed the sword, examining it. Will continued, pointing out the aspects of his craftsmanship. "The blade is folded steel. That's gold filigree laid into the handle. If I may?" The governor handed the sword back to him, and watched as he balanced at the apex of the handle and the blade. "Perfectly balanced. The tang is nearly the full weight of the blade." He flipped the sword and handed it back to the governor, having finished his demonstration. Will couldn't help embellishing just a little.
"Will!" Both men turned to look at the beautiful young lady descending the stairs. Neither could believe that she was the same little girl who always had scraped elbows and challenged the boys in her class to footraces. Her face was flushed with happiness and she now smiled her honest smile, pleased at seeing her 'big brother'. "It's so good to see you!"
"Milord, if you don't mind, there are some papers for you to sign," Dobbs, the governor's old butler stood at the door to the study, and the governor followed him out, giving the two young people a moment alone.
"Will, I…I had a dream last night," Elizabeth began. She had always confided everything in him.
"Well, did you dream about this?" Will asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he held out a small parcel for her. With a squeal of delight and thank you, she ripped open the present. She was still very much a child about gifts. Inside the wrapping was a small but exquisite dagger.
"Oh, Will, it's beautiful," she said, and it was. It was quite obviously not meant to be a weapon of war, but a pretty trinket for a woman. Fingering the fine gold handle, she noticed that it had ES engraved on it, with large looping flourishes. Elizabeth knew he had made it especially for her. No piece of jewelry would be more precious to her. She flung her arms around Will's neck, laughing at the mock choking noise he made.
"Happy birthday, Lizzy." There was tenderness in his voice, and suddenly Elizabeth missed him so much in her everyday life. Her childhood had been so happy, so full of fun and adventure, because of him. As they grew older, they saw each other less and less. Then his embrace stiffened, and Elizabeth knew her father had re-entered the room. He backed away from her, and nodded to the governor. "Good day, sir. Elizabeth."
And then he was gone again, before either of them could really respond. This troubled Elizabeth as she was helped into her father's carriage. They had all once been a family. Why couldn't they remain one? "Father, why can't you and Will just get along?"
Governor Swann let out an exasperated sigh. They had this conversation before. "Elizabeth, he's a man now, with his own life. He just doesn't need me pecking in it. His business is his own."
"But Father, don't you think Lydia would have wanted us all to be a family? If she were here-"
"If Lydia were here, things would be entirely different." He looked his daughter in the eye. "Everything would be different." And Elizabeth knew she had re-opened the wound that would always be too tender to touch. He quickly changed the subject. "What did you two discuss while I was in my study?"
"Oh, he wished me a happy birthday. And gave me a gift."
"A gift? What was that? Some confection?"
Elizabeth had to smile at how young her father still saw her. "No, he crafted, um, a dagger," she half-swallowed the last word, hoping her father wouldn't pay it any mind. This, of course, is a futile tactic.
"Oh, Elizabeth, you know those kinds of gifts are not appropriate for a young lady of your standing," his scolding became more serious. "It is your eighteenth birthday, you know, and most of your friends are married or at least engaged. Some already have children. You do want to make a successful match, don't you?"
Elizabeth gave her father the fake smile again and nodded. Satisfied, he looked out his window, leaving Elizabeth at her thoughts for a moment. Eighteen. She hadn't thought of it yet, but that was the age that if 'young ladies of her standing' hadn't made 'successful matches' yet on their own, their fathers usually took over. When Elizabeth thought of marriage, she felt short of breath. She wasn't ready to marry, not Captain-soon-to-be-Commodore Norrington, not anyone. She barely knew him! And he was so old, at least thirty-five. She wasn't ready to just one day, wake up and be a wife, and endure…those things that a wife endures. She couldn't imagine Norrington, or any man climbing on top of her and…
She ended her thoughts right then and there, because her stomach was beginning to get queasy. Instead, she looked out the carriage window at the beautiful Caribbean summer day. The sun was shining, glinting like azure diamonds on the water, and the scents of the tropical blossoms carried Elizabeth back to a calm state of mind. She barely remembered the cold and drear of England, and was so grateful for her father for bringing her to this paradise.
At the thought of her father, the thought also came of the decision he would soon be making, regarding the rest of her life. She may be in a paradise, but it wasn't worth the prison that caged her.
