This is my favorite chapter! Thanks, Moro; you are still my only reviewer.
I think that if you steal Seamus, Will will run you through. Gotta be
careful there. Yeah. Why do my readers not review? I know somebody other
than Moro is reading this!
So yeah. This is my favorite chapter. I had so much fun writing it. You guys will have so much fun reading it. I think the angst reasserts itself, so beware.
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At first I believed that Jack would be wrong. The rest of the day proceeded in fair-weathered calm. I began to truly learn my way about the ship, doing as I was ordered to do. There was something relaxing to just be able to follow orders, not to worry about what the future might hold or what the past had left behind. I began to see what Seamus meant about freedom.
Late in the afternoon, the sky abruptly turned dark. Angry black clouds gathered overhead, mumbling to themselves with their deep, wrathful voices. Lightening began to appear, beautiful but dangerous at the same time.
"Jack," I asked our captain, "are you sure it is wise to take this course?"
"Sure, mate," he answered, topping off the statement with a swig of rum. "We're gainin' on 'em, an' it takes more than a little storm to stop Captain Jack Sparrow!"
I swallowed and shook my head. Poor Elizabeth, she must be so scared! I only hoped I would reach her in time, before I was drowned and struck by lightening and filled to bursting with Jack's crazy speech.
Seamus stood next to Maggie. There was a quiet, companionable silence around them. For once, I wondered what it would be like to have a sibling. The closest things to brothers I had known were the older boys who had been apprenticed to John Brown, the blacksmith. They had all left, eventually, finding work of their own. How would they laugh now, to see me on a boat full of pirates.
Thunder cracked overhead, and I felt the first drops of rain hit my face. The wind had picked up, though I could tell it would quickly become much worse.
Too soon, I was fast at work securing rigging, compensating for our newfound weather problems. I had no time to muse about anything apart from the task at hand. The rain had become drenching, the wind a whirling, rushing, tugging force that threatened to pull me overboard. We must have caught one of the last hurricanes of the season.
I heard a cry from behind me. Maggie had lost her footing on the slick deck and was tottering towards the rail. I grabbed for her, thankfully receiving a handful of shirt.
"Hold on!" I shouted, hoping she could hear me over the wind. What a blessing that she was so light. Using my arm as leverage, she found her feet again.
"Thanks, Will," she said. Or at least, that's what I thought she said. The wind swept her words away. Back to work we went, no time to become sentimental.
The storm seemed to rage on forever. I did what I had to do mindlessly, ignoring my sopping state and the ache in my joints. Finally, the wind seemed to die down, and the rain seemed to become a little less relentless.
"Well, we're out of the worst of it, mates," Jack proclaimed from his station at the helm. I was surprised; even his voice sounded tired. "Go on to sleep, men. Ye've earned it."
Too exhausted to consider what a kindness Jack was showing us, I followed his directions and went to the cabin I had occupied the night before. My feet were leaden and my eyes were drooping. I pulled off my boots. They were stiff with water.
The door swung open, and there stood Seamus. His hair fell down his shoulders like dripping rat-tails. His clothing was plastered to his skin and, tired though I was, I enjoyed the view immensely. However, I still remembered our conversation that morning. Was it only that morning? It felt like it had been weeks. He hadn't spoken to me since then.
"Are you angry with me?" I asked. My voice sounded hoarse and unnatural.
"No," he said softly. "No."
Still I remained silent, hesitating to let the thread of hope enter my heart.
"We'd best get out o' these wet clothes, mate," he said, voice almost too quiet to hear. "Ye can catch yer death in clothes wet like this."
"Can you ever forgive me, Seamus?" I exclaimed. I rose to take his arms in my hands. "I never meant to cause you pain. God, if I ever do that again, I -"
He held a finger to my lips. How did he always manage to look so calm? I felt like a little boy, caught doing something he shouldn't by a kind teacher. I was more in danger of drowning in his eyes than I had been on deck at the worst of the storm. He removed his finger, placing his warm cheek on mine.
"I should be apologizing to you, Will," he whispered into my ear. Oh, the voice I had fallen in love with! It had not changed. "I am a stubborn fool. I cling to my terrible memories as a child clutches a blanket at night. Nothing you did, nothing you did."
Can you die if you love someone too much? I would have died ten times over at that moment.
"So am I forgiven?" Seamus asked, cheek still pressed to mine. "For being such an idiot?"
"You don't even need to ask," I answered, turning my head to kiss him. He sighed and seemed to relax in my arms. He felt small and warm and perfect, but we were both wearing our soaking clothes.
We remedied that easily enough. Seamus had me sit, wrapped in a blanket, while he hung our clothes to dry. The night was still as though the storm had never existed, and starlight invaded the room like a pirate.
"Thank you for saving Maggie," Seamus said once he was seated next to me, beneath the blanket we shared. His head was resting on my shoulder and his now-dry black curls fell over my arm. "I don't know what to do with her sometimes."
"Your accent's gone away," I noted quietly.
"So it has. It does that from time to time. You should think of becoming a professional pirate, mate. You'd be a big help to any captain out in a storm. You learn quickly, Will, and that will save you."
There was too much bare skin not being touched, and I could stand it no longer. I rolled over Seamus until he was sandwiched between the blankets and me. Ah, this was what I had been yearning for all day. His mouth opened too willingly to be ignored. I could not remember life before my fingers found the muscles in his stomach, the muscles in his arms, the smooth skin around his neck.
"We're lucky I like you, Will Turner," he gasped throatily, "or we'd be in quite a fix."
I could hardly arrange coherent thought, so I just nodded. I was supposed to be the one doing the seducing, but it was he who was unraveling me. His hands made their fine work, even from his position beneath me. Something more powerful than lust was at work, and my release that night was better than any I had experienced before.
We lay together afterwards. I listened to his breathing as it slowly returned to normal. His eyes glowed, and I loved them. His lips parted for breath, and I loved them. His hand caressed my face, and I loved it more than anything I had ever felt before. I had him tight around the waist, so our hips were still pressed together. Somehow, I felt our actions were not quite done for the night.
"She would have loved you," Seamus whispered. His hand was still at my cheek, loving and tender strokes.
"Your wife?"
He nodded. "I would have gone to the ends of the earth for her. Now I'm glad I didn't."
"She would have wanted you to move on," I said in attempt to comfort.
He grinned. "This coming from the one who lies in my arms and shares my bed." He sighed, but it was not a sad sigh. "You're right, Will. She would have wanted me to be happy."
"Are you?"
"Yes," he said, nuzzling my neck. "Infinitely."
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Aww, sweetness! I love Seamus with all my heart, and I know y'all do, too. I dunno. The way I'm writing Will makes him seem like sort of an idiot. I'm sorry for all you diehard Will fans out there. Maybe I'll make him smart in upcoming chapters.
Gosh, wouldn't it be a terrible twist if Seamus' wife were still alive? I don't think I could handle the torment! He's mine, I tell you, all mine! But I guess Moro can borrow him. Not for writing, of course. Only for the sorta stuff they don't let you publish on ff.net.
So yeah. This is my favorite chapter. I had so much fun writing it. You guys will have so much fun reading it. I think the angst reasserts itself, so beware.
@@@@@
At first I believed that Jack would be wrong. The rest of the day proceeded in fair-weathered calm. I began to truly learn my way about the ship, doing as I was ordered to do. There was something relaxing to just be able to follow orders, not to worry about what the future might hold or what the past had left behind. I began to see what Seamus meant about freedom.
Late in the afternoon, the sky abruptly turned dark. Angry black clouds gathered overhead, mumbling to themselves with their deep, wrathful voices. Lightening began to appear, beautiful but dangerous at the same time.
"Jack," I asked our captain, "are you sure it is wise to take this course?"
"Sure, mate," he answered, topping off the statement with a swig of rum. "We're gainin' on 'em, an' it takes more than a little storm to stop Captain Jack Sparrow!"
I swallowed and shook my head. Poor Elizabeth, she must be so scared! I only hoped I would reach her in time, before I was drowned and struck by lightening and filled to bursting with Jack's crazy speech.
Seamus stood next to Maggie. There was a quiet, companionable silence around them. For once, I wondered what it would be like to have a sibling. The closest things to brothers I had known were the older boys who had been apprenticed to John Brown, the blacksmith. They had all left, eventually, finding work of their own. How would they laugh now, to see me on a boat full of pirates.
Thunder cracked overhead, and I felt the first drops of rain hit my face. The wind had picked up, though I could tell it would quickly become much worse.
Too soon, I was fast at work securing rigging, compensating for our newfound weather problems. I had no time to muse about anything apart from the task at hand. The rain had become drenching, the wind a whirling, rushing, tugging force that threatened to pull me overboard. We must have caught one of the last hurricanes of the season.
I heard a cry from behind me. Maggie had lost her footing on the slick deck and was tottering towards the rail. I grabbed for her, thankfully receiving a handful of shirt.
"Hold on!" I shouted, hoping she could hear me over the wind. What a blessing that she was so light. Using my arm as leverage, she found her feet again.
"Thanks, Will," she said. Or at least, that's what I thought she said. The wind swept her words away. Back to work we went, no time to become sentimental.
The storm seemed to rage on forever. I did what I had to do mindlessly, ignoring my sopping state and the ache in my joints. Finally, the wind seemed to die down, and the rain seemed to become a little less relentless.
"Well, we're out of the worst of it, mates," Jack proclaimed from his station at the helm. I was surprised; even his voice sounded tired. "Go on to sleep, men. Ye've earned it."
Too exhausted to consider what a kindness Jack was showing us, I followed his directions and went to the cabin I had occupied the night before. My feet were leaden and my eyes were drooping. I pulled off my boots. They were stiff with water.
The door swung open, and there stood Seamus. His hair fell down his shoulders like dripping rat-tails. His clothing was plastered to his skin and, tired though I was, I enjoyed the view immensely. However, I still remembered our conversation that morning. Was it only that morning? It felt like it had been weeks. He hadn't spoken to me since then.
"Are you angry with me?" I asked. My voice sounded hoarse and unnatural.
"No," he said softly. "No."
Still I remained silent, hesitating to let the thread of hope enter my heart.
"We'd best get out o' these wet clothes, mate," he said, voice almost too quiet to hear. "Ye can catch yer death in clothes wet like this."
"Can you ever forgive me, Seamus?" I exclaimed. I rose to take his arms in my hands. "I never meant to cause you pain. God, if I ever do that again, I -"
He held a finger to my lips. How did he always manage to look so calm? I felt like a little boy, caught doing something he shouldn't by a kind teacher. I was more in danger of drowning in his eyes than I had been on deck at the worst of the storm. He removed his finger, placing his warm cheek on mine.
"I should be apologizing to you, Will," he whispered into my ear. Oh, the voice I had fallen in love with! It had not changed. "I am a stubborn fool. I cling to my terrible memories as a child clutches a blanket at night. Nothing you did, nothing you did."
Can you die if you love someone too much? I would have died ten times over at that moment.
"So am I forgiven?" Seamus asked, cheek still pressed to mine. "For being such an idiot?"
"You don't even need to ask," I answered, turning my head to kiss him. He sighed and seemed to relax in my arms. He felt small and warm and perfect, but we were both wearing our soaking clothes.
We remedied that easily enough. Seamus had me sit, wrapped in a blanket, while he hung our clothes to dry. The night was still as though the storm had never existed, and starlight invaded the room like a pirate.
"Thank you for saving Maggie," Seamus said once he was seated next to me, beneath the blanket we shared. His head was resting on my shoulder and his now-dry black curls fell over my arm. "I don't know what to do with her sometimes."
"Your accent's gone away," I noted quietly.
"So it has. It does that from time to time. You should think of becoming a professional pirate, mate. You'd be a big help to any captain out in a storm. You learn quickly, Will, and that will save you."
There was too much bare skin not being touched, and I could stand it no longer. I rolled over Seamus until he was sandwiched between the blankets and me. Ah, this was what I had been yearning for all day. His mouth opened too willingly to be ignored. I could not remember life before my fingers found the muscles in his stomach, the muscles in his arms, the smooth skin around his neck.
"We're lucky I like you, Will Turner," he gasped throatily, "or we'd be in quite a fix."
I could hardly arrange coherent thought, so I just nodded. I was supposed to be the one doing the seducing, but it was he who was unraveling me. His hands made their fine work, even from his position beneath me. Something more powerful than lust was at work, and my release that night was better than any I had experienced before.
We lay together afterwards. I listened to his breathing as it slowly returned to normal. His eyes glowed, and I loved them. His lips parted for breath, and I loved them. His hand caressed my face, and I loved it more than anything I had ever felt before. I had him tight around the waist, so our hips were still pressed together. Somehow, I felt our actions were not quite done for the night.
"She would have loved you," Seamus whispered. His hand was still at my cheek, loving and tender strokes.
"Your wife?"
He nodded. "I would have gone to the ends of the earth for her. Now I'm glad I didn't."
"She would have wanted you to move on," I said in attempt to comfort.
He grinned. "This coming from the one who lies in my arms and shares my bed." He sighed, but it was not a sad sigh. "You're right, Will. She would have wanted me to be happy."
"Are you?"
"Yes," he said, nuzzling my neck. "Infinitely."
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Aww, sweetness! I love Seamus with all my heart, and I know y'all do, too. I dunno. The way I'm writing Will makes him seem like sort of an idiot. I'm sorry for all you diehard Will fans out there. Maybe I'll make him smart in upcoming chapters.
Gosh, wouldn't it be a terrible twist if Seamus' wife were still alive? I don't think I could handle the torment! He's mine, I tell you, all mine! But I guess Moro can borrow him. Not for writing, of course. Only for the sorta stuff they don't let you publish on ff.net.
