Eventually, Will and Ophelia located the others and revealed that they had received the charts and a ship and crew from Sao Feng. It was clear that Barbossa was skeptical of their methods, but he seemed to accept them soon enough. Once he had the charts, the temporary Captain declared to set off almost immediately. He allowed only enough time to stock the ship with the necessary supplies before shoving away.
As worried as she was about the East India Trading Company's purpose in Singapore, Ophelia couldn't help but be calmed by the familiar feeling of being on a ship. It might not have been the Pearl, and Jack wasn't there to make terrible jokes, but it would do for now.
Ophelia looked around the deck of the ship. Barbossa was at the helm, whistling merrily. Elizabeth stood near him, gazing blankly over the ocean. Tia Dalma was sitting upon some boxes, Pintel and Ragetti gazing at her uneasily. And Will was looking at a small dagger intently, just a few feet away from her.
"What is that?" she decided to ask. Anything to get her mind off of Beckett and the blasted gold ring on her finger.
Will looked up at her and smiled faintly. "A last gift from my father. I took it with a promise that I would set him free. This was when I… left the Dutchman."
His last words were soft. Ophelia felt her heart flutter with uneasiness. She remembered how betrayed she had felt upon discovering he'd left her with the merciless band of cursed pirates. She realized she still felt a little bitter. But for the sake of everything else he had to do, and because he had had good intentions, she allowed it to slide.
"We'll see that promise through," she declared with a definitive nod.
Her friend grinned now; it was the most hopeful he'd looked in weeks.
But when he took in her expression, deep within her eyes, that smile slowly faded. He recognized the bags under her dark-brown gaze, the paleness to her face. He stood up from his seat and walked towards her, concerned.
"I won't let him have you," he repeated.
Ophelia sighed. She knew he would promise that, but in the end, Beckett would still hunt for her. And for Will, if she were to break her end of the bargain. Then he would be strung from the gallows, and she would be married anyway.
She opened her mouth to say as much, but Will cut her off before she could by asking, "Why did you agree to that, if it would haunt you so terribly?"
"Because the thought of your death being the price for my freedom haunted me more," she answered simply, gazing out over the ocean.
"Why?" he repeated.
She chuckled derisively and turned away, looking over the sea. Her mind went to Jack Sparrow then, suddenly remembering that the water had looked this exact aquamarine color the first time he had tried to teach her how to steer the Pearl.
At last, she decided to answer, "Why wouldn't it, Will?"
He was quiet at her response. For a moment, the two of them simply looked out over the sea. Even as they sailed onward, the wind started to become colder, more harsh and foreboding.
It wasn't until five minutes had passed with the two of them standing this way that Will finally replied, "Well, the least I can do is ensure that you will not have to be afraid any longer."
Then he walked away. Ophelia didn't watch him go. Instead, she stared out over the ocean with a great sigh, not quite sure what to say or do. She felt someone glaring daggers in the back of her head and knew without looking that it was Elizabeth.
"A storm raging through the 'eart of the world. That is the only thing that can part you from 'im, no?"
Ophelia started and looked to her right to see Tia Dalma staring directly into her eyes with a ferocity and intenseness she'd not expected to find in the woman. She felt herself flush slightly at the accuracy of Tia Dalma's comment.
Still startled, Ophelia replied, "I… perhaps, yes."
Tia Dalma chuckled and clasped her hands together, gazing out over the railing. "As much as it begrudge me to say, your love be the fiercest and most true that I have ever seen," she mumbled.
Ophelia was almost even more surprised by this than by the woman's sudden appearance. She hadn't expected any sort of kindness or even respect from Tia Dalma, and yet here they were.
"Thank you," she murmured quietly. She didn't know what else to say.
"But I 'ave a question for you. Are you going to tell 'im?"
These words made Ophelia's blood turn cold. Tia Dalma hadn't been there at the time the Pearl was taken down, but somehow, she knew that they both were thinking about the exact same thing—Elizabeth's kiss that betrayed Jack to his death. Even after six weeks, Ophelia still hadn't told Will that the Captain of the ship had been chained and sentenced to death by his fiancée. She didn't even know how she would bring up the topic.
This thought inspired her to answer, "I don't know how to tell him."
"It matters not how, but whether you do. He will be 'urt either way. How will you 'urt 'im? Through the truth? Or through lies?"
And before Ophelia could respond, Tia Dalma bowed her head slightly and walked off, her gait graceful with each step.
The next few days, Ophelia was haunted by Tia Dalma's words. She knew that in the end, it would be much kinder to inform Will of what she knew. But she was too selfish to do so… she was ashamed of it, but the longer Will thought Elizabeth no longer loved him, the more out of love with her he might become.
One of those torturous days, she was standing on deck, staring blankly over the horizon. Pintel and Ragetti were telling her exciting pirate ventures, but she was only halfheartedly listening not only because of her thoughts, but because it was beyond freezing so far north. Despite these things, she smiled and laughed in the appropriate places, and so they were satisfied.
As she was sitting there, however, she felt a blanket being draped over her.
Ophelia blinked and looked upward to find Will standing there, smiling somewhat.
"You looked cold," he remarked simply before walking away.
She blinked again, unsure of what to make of this. Deciding to let it be, she turned back to the two pirates, both of whom were grinning evilly at this point.
"What?" she laughed.
"The two of you," chuckled Ragetti as Pintel made a poorly shaped heart gesture.
Realizing what they were getting at, Ophelia laughed uneasily and exclaimed, "Oh, no, we… it's nothing like that, guys. Really."
The two pirates sighed and rolled their eyes almost simultaneously at her words—Pintel opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment, a harsh freezing breeze blew through the air, and everyone on deck shivered.
As Ophelia pulled the blanket Will had given her tighter around her shoulders, Pintel cursed and exclaimed, "No one said anything about cold."
"I'm sure there must be a good reason for our suffering," Ragetti chattered.
Pintel groaned and exclaimed, "Why doesn't that obeah woman just bring Jack back the same way she brought back Barbossa?"
"Because Barbossa was only dead!" exclaimed Tia Dalma from behind Ophelia. Her suddenness again unnerved Ophelia, who yelped and jumped from her spot on the box she was sitting on at the severity of her voice. "Jack Sparrow is taken, body and soul, to a place not of death, but punishment! The worst fate a person can bring upon 'imself stretching on forever! That's what awaits at Davy Jones's locker!"
Ophelia inhaled sharply at the last few sentences the woman spat. If Tia Dalma's words were correct, then that meant Jack was not dead… and it was entirely possible for her to search for him, to bring him back.
Just as she'd promised.
Startled by this information, Ophelia darted up from where she sat and launched herself underneath the decks to try and regain her breath. She stood there for a while, simply staring at the empty hammocks and wondering if all those legends that Barbossa had been chasing were true, if she could make good on her words that she'd exchanged with Jack—
But as abruptly as she burst underneath the decks, she stopped and frowned. Why was she losing her mind over the mere possibility that everything Barbossa said had been true? She shouldn't care.
And yet, without warning, she was brought back to that day. She recalled the gloomy feeling of dread in her stomach, the way that Jack smiled at her… so certain that it would be the last time he saw her face. She remembered Elizabeth's treachery, and the fact that only she herself would be able to tell Will the truth about her intentions—
"I know how you're feeling," said a voice.
Ophelia yelped and whirled around, frantically searching for the source of the voice. It took a while for her to locate it, but eventually she did. It was positioned atop a few boxes of provisions in the shadows, but it was clearly Will's voice.
Clearing her throat, Ophelia exclaimed, "Will!"
And Will it was. With a soft chuckle, he leapt off the boxes he'd previously been sitting on and replied, "Yes, here I am. Were you looking for me, Ophie?"
"Well… not exactly, no…" Ophelia trailed off here, knowing that it was time to stop being a coward, to heed Tia Dalma's words, and accept the fact that hurting Will now would be better than letting him discover her treachery later.
And so Ophelia blurted out, "Will, I know why Elizabeth kissed Jack."
Immediately, Will's face turned to stone. Where it was previously filled with a degree of compassion and kindness, now it was unbearably unreadable, as it had been whenever Ophelia had been gazing at him for the past six weeks.
"What makes you say that?" he asked coolly.
Ophelia swallowed, but gathered what little bravery she withheld to reply, "I… saw what she did with Jack that day, when we left him. When I went to check on him… shackles chained him to the mast. I asked if there was anything I could do to free him, but he insisted that I leave him be, that I find my way back to you so that I could live."
Ophelia no less than choked out these words, and dared not to look at her friend as she did. She stared instead at the mossy floorboards that so desperately needed to be cleaned—and recognized that there was no good way to avoid breaking his heart by saying these things.
This thought propelled her to say, through restrained tears and hushed whispers, "I'm so sorry I kept this from you. But I am cowardly, Will—I am. I was afraid of what this might mean for our alliance, our friendship…"
She trailed off at these words, but as soon as she did, Will strode towards her, that scarily unreadable expression on his face yet again. But as soon as he was standing in front of her, looking just barely down at her, he smiled and replied, "You are silly, Ophelia."
Taken aback, she exclaimed, "What?!"
"You are silly," he repeated smoothly, without a stutter or falter in his words. "You should never have been afraid of me, of what I might feel. If anything, I am grateful that you told me this… if only so that I know."
Ophelia raised an eyebrow and suspiciously commented, "You seem rather alright with what I've just told you, Will."
Will chuckled at her words and walked away, towards the wall. His back to her, Ophelia could see the state that his clothes were in—they were largely torn, and in fact quite ragged. She realized in that moment that the blanket he had given her was likely what had kept him warm throughout the past couple of weeks, and she immediately reached out to return it…
Only to have him place his hands atop hers and murmur, "No, keep it. I want you to have it."
"Not Elizabeth?" whispered Ophelia, her eyes wide. She felt her heart fluttering in her chest, her blood pounding in her head, wondering if at last, after so many years, she might finally place above Elizabeth for once, for once, for once.
"Not for Elizabeth," confirmed Will, a gentle smile on his face. "For you."
"But… Elizabeth…"
"Shhh," protested Will, his familiar half-smirk on his face as he gently pressed a finger to Ophelia's lips. "Not everything is about her. I care about you, too, Ophelia. Perhaps… more than I should."
He stepped ever so closer to her body, so that when she took a deep breath, she could feel his form pressed against her own, so dreadfully, wonderfully close. Every piece of herself was still, almost numb, waiting for either of them to make the next move. Breathing grew harder, and she almost gasped upon saying, "But—"
Yet she couldn't get any further than that before his lips were on hers, careful yet warm, concerned but free, as if this act were something that had been forbidden for who-knew how long.
And Ophelia felt free. She closed her eyes and melted into Will's arms, allowing herself to relish in the feeling she had been daring to think about for nearly six years. As she moved closer, his grasp around her tightened, as if he were afraid to let her go. His lips were warm, his hands were warm, and she too felt warmer than she had in ages.
His hands grasped tightly at her waist, pulling her ever so slightly closer to him. She felt his fingers dig into her side, and her hands migrated to his hair, drinking in his presence, hoping that he wouldn't disappear the way she was terrified he would. As she kissed him, carefully, still afraid, his hand smoothed along her back as if to convince her that he was there, that he was real…
That he was hers.
Everything felt so right, Ophelia was almost sure she was dreaming. But when she pulled away, more so out of shock than anything else, she knew that she wasn't. This was real.
After this, the first thing she could gasp was, "Will."
"Ophelia, please. Tell me the truth. Why did you accept Beckett's engagement?"
She sniffled once and stared at the ground before answering, finally, as if a weight had been lifted off her chest, "Because I love you, William Turner. Both then and now, I would sooner sacrifice my hand in marriage than I would your life. I have loved you for years, and I still do, and I will continue to do so."
"Ophelia…" whispered Will, softly nudging her temple with his lips, kissing her gently on the side of her head. It felt like it really meant something, and Ophelia's heart skipped a beat when he began kissing her again, this time harder, with more unrestrained feeling behind it.
And she responded to it, feeling tears prick behind her eyes, praying and hoping with all that she was that this would not be the last time she would experience such happiness. But even as she was pressed against him, a single nagging word occupied her mind, preventing the situation from being complete bliss.
Elizabeth.
Abruptly, Ophelia pulled away. Staring with hurt into Will's eyes, she quietly exclaimed, "No. No, wait, Will. What about your engagement? Your wedding?"
Will blinked and stared confusedly at her. "Isn't it obvious?"
Loath as she was to show it, the tears began spilling from Ophelia's dark eyes as she whispered, her breath hitched, "No, it's not. Not to me. I cannot—I cannot…"
"Cannot what, Ophie?" he murmured, his voice concerned as he brushed back a piece of her dark-chocolate hair behind her shoulder.
She swallowed, not wanting to break the illusion that she could be happy. That after all these years and all this peril, finally she had succeeded.
But Elizabeth was still here, and Beckett was hunting for her, and so far as they remained together, Ophelia and Will would be pursued one way or another. And so she finally replied, "I cannot have my heart broken. Not after all this. Please… don't do that to me."
And she escaped from his grasp, ignoring him as he called her name, and ran up to the decks where she knew she would be safe, at least for a little while.
I am procrastinating studying for finals by updating. :} I hope this chapter was to your liking; and thank you ever so much for making it thus far! You lot are all that and a bag of chips. The cat's pajamas. Bee's knees. And all those old phrasings that never truly die! With this in mind, I won't bother promising a quick update-HOWEVER! I will promise that a certain pirate returns to our story next chapter, and that things will quickly become... fun. For me. Because I already know what I'm going to write. But maybe not so much for you. ;)
I hope everyone's having a good, relatively not stressful finals week and/or summer vacation! As always, feel free to leave comments, thoughts, critiques, your favorite ice cream flavor, etc., in a review. I always love hearing from you!
Until the next time,
~Avalain Nightshade