And here the romance begins. Thank you for putting up with me during a time
of angst and turmoil, but those parts were vital in order for me to project
Will as the character he became at the age of twenty.
Disclaimer: Do I look like a thief to you?
When I awoke to the feel of soft touch, I recall that I was in an unfamiliar place, but the first thing I saw was an angel. She was young, so very young, and she asked me who I was.
"Will Turner," I said.
"I'm Elizabeth Swann. I'm going to take care of you, Will."
And once more, I fell into the blackness, hating Captain Sir, wondering where my father was.
I arose again some three days later, and the angel who called herself Elizabeth told me she feared I was dead.
At least someone fears for my death, I thought rather bitterly, and most unlike myself.
My first instinct upon waking was to do what I always did: take the pendant out and think. But when I reached for it around my neck, it was gone. For the first time, the pendant had left its safe hiding place underneath my shirt.
Great. It was really terrible, I had lost the only memory left of my mother and my father. It was lost to Davy Jones Locker forever, just gone. Before I even had time to ponder the loss, however, Elizabeth Swann walked into the room.
"Excuse me?" she asked, knocking on the door of the tiny room. "Mr. Turner?"
"Um, come in," I said.
"I have food for you," she said, gesturing to a tray with bread and fruit on it. "I was afraid that you were dead." She smiled.
I looked at her, not expecting her to say that. Instead, I asked rather rudely, "Who are you?"
She smiled again, sitting down next to me on my cot. "I'm Elizabeth Swann. My father is Governor Swann. It's nice to meet you."
I was in no mood to greet her in a way that would make Captain Sir proud, so instead I asked, "Where are we going?"
"Well," she said, sighing, "it really depends. We need to know what happened to you, Mr. Turner."
Will had been told by Captain Sir that people of a high authority always greeted each other by last name. "I'm sorry," he said stubbornly. "I don't think I can tell you that, Ms. Swann."
"Why not?" she asked.
"There's nothing to tell," I insisted, not really wanting to talk about it, especially not with a complete stranger. "Just leave me out on the beach somewhere, I can find a place to go."
"But haven't you got any parents to go home to?" She appeared concerned.
"No," he said. "I don't. I can find my way around, I'll be all right."
"Listen, Mr. Turner," she said. "I'm not about to let my father leave you abandoned somewhere without knowing you'll be safe. You're coming back with us."
"Where are you going?"
"You mean where are we going," she corrected. "We're going back home to Port Royal."
I recognized the name vaguely, from a place far away in the distance. "Where is Port Royal?"
"It's on a Caribbean island," she said.
My eyes widened. If we were going back to the Caribbean, I might be able to find my father! "Is Port Royal near a place called Tortuga?"
"Yes," Ms. Swann said uncomfortably. "But I wouldn't go there if I were you. It's rather a... strange place, if you ask me. And Father most probably won't let you."
Wouldn't let him? How can he do that? "But I'm not under your father's care..."
"No, but seeing as you're an orphan he's going to need to find you a suitable home."
I was sincerely too tired to fight what she was telling me. I just flopped back down on the cot.
"What happened?" she asked softly.
"What do you mean?" I asked, rather cynically as a matter of fact.
"I saw the ship," she said. "I saw it. It was a pirate ship, wasn't it? They sank your boat, didn't they?"
I didn't want to answer.
She sighed. "All right. Father tells me that you're to get plenty of rest, but if you ever need any company, I am right here."
And with that, she left.
That was somewhat the stages of our early acquaintance; she would tell me things about herself in an attempt to be cordial, and I would always evasively change the subject every time she asked me about anything. At first it had been the mere fact that all my wounds were still fresh: loss of my mother and Captain Sir, falling of the only two homes I ever had. But eventually it developed into something more; she was like a living angel, something I had undoubtedly christened her upon our first meeting for a reason, fragile and perfect, and I would not want to tell her the stories of my slums and horrors. It was far too embarrassing for me, and would be sure to put a grotesque scar on her mind.
I learned much about her, however. She claimed that the maids in her household would never let her alone for even a moment, that she could ride a horse and was learning how to sing, that she lost her mother the day she was born.
I came quite close to telling her the truth when she told me that, as her story was very nearly as terrible as mine, but I bit my lip. After all, I hardly knew her.
We landed in the Port Royal harbor about one week after Governer Swann's crew removed me from the water. I tried not to show my excitement; my father would probably be somewhere close by. Then he would recognize me and come take me away from whatever terrible orphanage the Governor would place me in.
It was just my luck, however, that the Governor did not place me in a terrible orphanage my father could rescue me from. In fact, as soon as we landed in the harbor, the Governor led me to an old woman standing, waiting for our ship to dock, apparently.
"Will," Governor Swann said to me, "I have arranged a caretaker for you. Meet Ms. Smith. She will be your new surrogate mother."
The elderly woman took my hand and said, "What's your name?"
"William Turner," I replied. "William Jonathan Turner."
"He likes to be called Will," Elizabeth said from behind me.
The Governor gave her a silencing look. "There, there, Elizabeth. I'm quite sure the boy can tell Ms. Smith exactly what he likes to be called."
Elizabeth said, "Yes, Father," but I caught her giving him an almighty scowl once his face had turned.
"Best of luck to you, Will," the Governor said. "I will check on you every so often to see how you are doing. Goodbye." He turned and walked away, leaving me with Ms. Smith.
Elizabeth had lagged behind. She made sure her father wasn't looking before blushing furiously and saying, "Bye," and kissing me on the cheek. She ran off to catch up.
I held my cheek all through the walk to Ms. Smith's home.
***************************************
So, finally the thing I've been promising you people. Review if you liked it, review if you didn't. My aim here was to be very in character: I wanted to start with a raw nothing of Will and mold it into the character Orlando Bloom had a very rare opportunity to show. He was absolutely fantabulous, by the way. More coming next chapter, and we have a bit of a... swing, if you will.
Disclaimer: Do I look like a thief to you?
When I awoke to the feel of soft touch, I recall that I was in an unfamiliar place, but the first thing I saw was an angel. She was young, so very young, and she asked me who I was.
"Will Turner," I said.
"I'm Elizabeth Swann. I'm going to take care of you, Will."
And once more, I fell into the blackness, hating Captain Sir, wondering where my father was.
I arose again some three days later, and the angel who called herself Elizabeth told me she feared I was dead.
At least someone fears for my death, I thought rather bitterly, and most unlike myself.
My first instinct upon waking was to do what I always did: take the pendant out and think. But when I reached for it around my neck, it was gone. For the first time, the pendant had left its safe hiding place underneath my shirt.
Great. It was really terrible, I had lost the only memory left of my mother and my father. It was lost to Davy Jones Locker forever, just gone. Before I even had time to ponder the loss, however, Elizabeth Swann walked into the room.
"Excuse me?" she asked, knocking on the door of the tiny room. "Mr. Turner?"
"Um, come in," I said.
"I have food for you," she said, gesturing to a tray with bread and fruit on it. "I was afraid that you were dead." She smiled.
I looked at her, not expecting her to say that. Instead, I asked rather rudely, "Who are you?"
She smiled again, sitting down next to me on my cot. "I'm Elizabeth Swann. My father is Governor Swann. It's nice to meet you."
I was in no mood to greet her in a way that would make Captain Sir proud, so instead I asked, "Where are we going?"
"Well," she said, sighing, "it really depends. We need to know what happened to you, Mr. Turner."
Will had been told by Captain Sir that people of a high authority always greeted each other by last name. "I'm sorry," he said stubbornly. "I don't think I can tell you that, Ms. Swann."
"Why not?" she asked.
"There's nothing to tell," I insisted, not really wanting to talk about it, especially not with a complete stranger. "Just leave me out on the beach somewhere, I can find a place to go."
"But haven't you got any parents to go home to?" She appeared concerned.
"No," he said. "I don't. I can find my way around, I'll be all right."
"Listen, Mr. Turner," she said. "I'm not about to let my father leave you abandoned somewhere without knowing you'll be safe. You're coming back with us."
"Where are you going?"
"You mean where are we going," she corrected. "We're going back home to Port Royal."
I recognized the name vaguely, from a place far away in the distance. "Where is Port Royal?"
"It's on a Caribbean island," she said.
My eyes widened. If we were going back to the Caribbean, I might be able to find my father! "Is Port Royal near a place called Tortuga?"
"Yes," Ms. Swann said uncomfortably. "But I wouldn't go there if I were you. It's rather a... strange place, if you ask me. And Father most probably won't let you."
Wouldn't let him? How can he do that? "But I'm not under your father's care..."
"No, but seeing as you're an orphan he's going to need to find you a suitable home."
I was sincerely too tired to fight what she was telling me. I just flopped back down on the cot.
"What happened?" she asked softly.
"What do you mean?" I asked, rather cynically as a matter of fact.
"I saw the ship," she said. "I saw it. It was a pirate ship, wasn't it? They sank your boat, didn't they?"
I didn't want to answer.
She sighed. "All right. Father tells me that you're to get plenty of rest, but if you ever need any company, I am right here."
And with that, she left.
That was somewhat the stages of our early acquaintance; she would tell me things about herself in an attempt to be cordial, and I would always evasively change the subject every time she asked me about anything. At first it had been the mere fact that all my wounds were still fresh: loss of my mother and Captain Sir, falling of the only two homes I ever had. But eventually it developed into something more; she was like a living angel, something I had undoubtedly christened her upon our first meeting for a reason, fragile and perfect, and I would not want to tell her the stories of my slums and horrors. It was far too embarrassing for me, and would be sure to put a grotesque scar on her mind.
I learned much about her, however. She claimed that the maids in her household would never let her alone for even a moment, that she could ride a horse and was learning how to sing, that she lost her mother the day she was born.
I came quite close to telling her the truth when she told me that, as her story was very nearly as terrible as mine, but I bit my lip. After all, I hardly knew her.
We landed in the Port Royal harbor about one week after Governer Swann's crew removed me from the water. I tried not to show my excitement; my father would probably be somewhere close by. Then he would recognize me and come take me away from whatever terrible orphanage the Governor would place me in.
It was just my luck, however, that the Governor did not place me in a terrible orphanage my father could rescue me from. In fact, as soon as we landed in the harbor, the Governor led me to an old woman standing, waiting for our ship to dock, apparently.
"Will," Governor Swann said to me, "I have arranged a caretaker for you. Meet Ms. Smith. She will be your new surrogate mother."
The elderly woman took my hand and said, "What's your name?"
"William Turner," I replied. "William Jonathan Turner."
"He likes to be called Will," Elizabeth said from behind me.
The Governor gave her a silencing look. "There, there, Elizabeth. I'm quite sure the boy can tell Ms. Smith exactly what he likes to be called."
Elizabeth said, "Yes, Father," but I caught her giving him an almighty scowl once his face had turned.
"Best of luck to you, Will," the Governor said. "I will check on you every so often to see how you are doing. Goodbye." He turned and walked away, leaving me with Ms. Smith.
Elizabeth had lagged behind. She made sure her father wasn't looking before blushing furiously and saying, "Bye," and kissing me on the cheek. She ran off to catch up.
I held my cheek all through the walk to Ms. Smith's home.
***************************************
So, finally the thing I've been promising you people. Review if you liked it, review if you didn't. My aim here was to be very in character: I wanted to start with a raw nothing of Will and mold it into the character Orlando Bloom had a very rare opportunity to show. He was absolutely fantabulous, by the way. More coming next chapter, and we have a bit of a... swing, if you will.
