Disclaimer: I don't own the characters
Chapter Two: Burning Bridges
Will crouched on the harbor rocks, his eyes fixed on the horizon. All around him, the inhabitants of Port Royale went about their business - selling fruit, grinding knives, marching to and fro in pursuit of solid, terrestrial ideals. His own ideals were increasingly watery, and prone to eluding his grasp. Jack used to watch that horizon. What did he see there?
Since the day, long ago, when his ship had been attacked and he had been set adrift to die, Will had based his life on a few solid convictions. First and foremost, of course, he had held to his hatred of pirates. "I train three hours every day, so that when I meet a pirate, I can kill it." That one seemed laughable now, of course. These days, what with his foppish hats and roguish mannerisms, he felt half pirate himself. Half pirate, yes, and half something else.
The second conviction was the one troubling him today. As soon as he opened his eyes on that long ago day, as soon as he focused them on Miss Elizabeth Swann, he had loved her. He had been dead; she was life. He had been poor; she was riches, and comfort, and warm pans slipped between the sheets of luxurious feather beds. Oh yes, he had seen it all. He had listened at the window as she shared inappropriate confidences with her lady's maid. He had watched her come shrieking out of nightmares, only to reach into her bedside table and stroke the medallion she'd stolen from around his neck.
He knew she loved him. He'd known it for years. Elizabeth was home: terra firma. But these days his attention seemed increasingly drawn to the turbulent seas. He did not wonder that his father had been on intimate terms with Captain Sparrow. The only one who knew his real name. He only wondered if he were worthy of such intimacy himself.
As soon as that thought crossed Will's mind, the guilt returned. Letting out a yelp of frustration, he slammed his fist into the nearest rock. Then he drew a wrinkled piece of parchment from his vest pocket. Upon it was written the faded words of a letter to his closest childhood friend. He had composed those words on the very day of his engagement - the same day he stood and watched the Black Pearl disappear over the horizon. Until today he had been unsure of their truth. Cowardly, you mean, he chided himself. Afraid of the consequences. Now, it was time to deliver the letter.
One hour later, Will returned from the Swann house to wait at the harbor again. He was miserable, racked with guilt, and fairly disgusted with himself as well. I don't even know how to catch a ride to Tortuga, he thought. I can hardly steal a naval ship again. He watched as legitimate crafts passed in and out of the harbor, pursuing legitimate business. I am a complete ass.
Some time later, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to look into the smug visage of Commodore Norrington. "Wishing for the pirate's life, are we? Yo ho, and such?"
Will shrugged the hand off and stepped away. "Don't be so hasty, Turner. It happens that my ship will pass close to the island of Tortuga within the next few days. It may be that I could turn a blind eye to a man disembarking at that point. That is, if the man were removing himself from the life of Miss Elizabeth Swann."
Shooting him a glance of pure hatred - how does he know? how does he already know? - Will gave a brief nod. "Agreed."
Chapter Two: Burning Bridges
Will crouched on the harbor rocks, his eyes fixed on the horizon. All around him, the inhabitants of Port Royale went about their business - selling fruit, grinding knives, marching to and fro in pursuit of solid, terrestrial ideals. His own ideals were increasingly watery, and prone to eluding his grasp. Jack used to watch that horizon. What did he see there?
Since the day, long ago, when his ship had been attacked and he had been set adrift to die, Will had based his life on a few solid convictions. First and foremost, of course, he had held to his hatred of pirates. "I train three hours every day, so that when I meet a pirate, I can kill it." That one seemed laughable now, of course. These days, what with his foppish hats and roguish mannerisms, he felt half pirate himself. Half pirate, yes, and half something else.
The second conviction was the one troubling him today. As soon as he opened his eyes on that long ago day, as soon as he focused them on Miss Elizabeth Swann, he had loved her. He had been dead; she was life. He had been poor; she was riches, and comfort, and warm pans slipped between the sheets of luxurious feather beds. Oh yes, he had seen it all. He had listened at the window as she shared inappropriate confidences with her lady's maid. He had watched her come shrieking out of nightmares, only to reach into her bedside table and stroke the medallion she'd stolen from around his neck.
He knew she loved him. He'd known it for years. Elizabeth was home: terra firma. But these days his attention seemed increasingly drawn to the turbulent seas. He did not wonder that his father had been on intimate terms with Captain Sparrow. The only one who knew his real name. He only wondered if he were worthy of such intimacy himself.
As soon as that thought crossed Will's mind, the guilt returned. Letting out a yelp of frustration, he slammed his fist into the nearest rock. Then he drew a wrinkled piece of parchment from his vest pocket. Upon it was written the faded words of a letter to his closest childhood friend. He had composed those words on the very day of his engagement - the same day he stood and watched the Black Pearl disappear over the horizon. Until today he had been unsure of their truth. Cowardly, you mean, he chided himself. Afraid of the consequences. Now, it was time to deliver the letter.
One hour later, Will returned from the Swann house to wait at the harbor again. He was miserable, racked with guilt, and fairly disgusted with himself as well. I don't even know how to catch a ride to Tortuga, he thought. I can hardly steal a naval ship again. He watched as legitimate crafts passed in and out of the harbor, pursuing legitimate business. I am a complete ass.
Some time later, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to look into the smug visage of Commodore Norrington. "Wishing for the pirate's life, are we? Yo ho, and such?"
Will shrugged the hand off and stepped away. "Don't be so hasty, Turner. It happens that my ship will pass close to the island of Tortuga within the next few days. It may be that I could turn a blind eye to a man disembarking at that point. That is, if the man were removing himself from the life of Miss Elizabeth Swann."
Shooting him a glance of pure hatred - how does he know? how does he already know? - Will gave a brief nod. "Agreed."
