Part X

If "staying young awhile longer" entails having Will Turner's arm around my waist and my head upon his shoulder, I shall very much enjoy remaining a child.

"Do you recall the day we met?" I ask. "When we plucked you from the sea on that dingy little raft of yours?"

Will gives a humorless little laugh. I suspect that, though I recall that day in rather good terms, he must not since he lost his mother on ship. "I don't recall the 'plucking from the sea' bit, but I do remember you. I thought you were an angel because the light was behind you and made your hair glow as if you wore a halo."

"That is the perhaps the one and only time anyone will liken me to an angel," I laugh. "Goodness, you must have gotten over that misconception rather quickly once we became playmates and I'd hit you across the knees with my wooden sword or steal your garters so you stockings kept falling down."

"Or make me carry your luggage."

"That's what boys do on Uninhabited Islands," I answer breezily.

"You didn't have to fill them with things," he says.

"What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger."

Will laughs – really laughs – arm tightening around my waist, giving my hip a little squeeze. "Perhaps it would have been better to be captured by the pirates instead of rescued by your father."

"Bite your tongue, Will Turner!" I admonish. "You know pirates take no prisoners."

"Perhaps they would have taken pity on me," he says. "I could have been a cabin boy or galley slave. Sailed the High Seas. Instead, I'm a blacksmith's apprentice who does all the work yet receives none of the credit."

"I shall speak to my father on that matter," I say. "At the very least, he can get Blacksmith Brown to split the commission money."

"I am not a charity case," Will says. "I do not need you to speak to your father on my behalf."

"I only wish to help, Will." I pull back slightly in order to look him in the face. "Don't you want my help?"

"If I wanted it, I would ask for it, Elizabeth."

"Oh, you're very rude!" I say, shoving off completely and going to perch on the arm of the settee. "That's a fine way to respond to an offer of help!"

Will forks both hands through his hair, making it stick up in all directions -- much as it does when he's been working long hours at the forge. "I have a voice. If I wish to, I shall speak to your father myself on the matter."

"But you never will!" I say. "You shall secretly grouse about it but never do anything to rectify the situation. I know you, Will. You prefer to placate people instead of stir up trouble."

"Perhaps that is why I always cow-tow to you, Elizabeth," he says, a rarely heard bitter edge to his voice.

"Perhaps it is," I agree. "And perhaps you should rectify that situation as well. I do know you dislike the game of Pirates, Will, yet you still play. Why is that?"

"Because you. . .because you ask me to."

"There's a simple word you should learn. It's called 'no.'"

"I. . .I can't say that around you!"

"And why not?" I ask.

"Because. . .Because it makes you cry and I can't bear the sight of your tears, Elizabeth," Will says being particularly honest with me today. He kneels on the rug in front of me, hands pressing my knees. "I promised myself – very early on – that 'I shall not make this angel cry.' That was my vow to myself as a boy of ten and I hoped always to keep it. Since, I do know that some of my actions have caused you tears, Elizabeth, and I am sorry. I always wished you happy. That is why I go along with your games and schemes and whims. It makes you happy. . . .I wish you happy."

"I wish you happy always too, Will," I say, reaching out a hand to stroke his hair, touched by his sincerity. "Goodness, you shall make me cry if you continue on like this – though not in a sad way." I wipe under my eyes when I feel them dampen. "How very surprisingly tender you can be, Will. Thank you."

"I. . .I would do anything for you, Elizabeth. Even die for you."

"Let us hope it never comes to that."