By Illoria
A/N: Just a little one-shot piece about little!Will. :)
Will had been waking up early lately. A glance at the clock in the corner of his room told him that it was not even seven o'clock yet, and yet that was the time at which he'd awoken every day for the past week. He shut his eyes and tried to go back to sleep. His efforts proved fruitless, and eventually he got out of bed, dressed, and headed downstairs.
He glanced at the framed paintings decorating the walls of the stairwell, at the vase upon an oakwood endtable in the foyer, the china inside his mother's armoire. All of these things and various other trinkets would, to a stranger, look out of place in the modest house with its wood floors and small rooms. But to Will they were natural, a part of his surroundings that he barely even noticed anymore, except for the new additions to the décor that would come around twice a year – a valise here, a jewelry box there. Whenever his father sent them, they were put on display.
His mother was reading a book at the small table in the little dining room. She smiled at Will as he entered the room, the smile seeming to light up features that would've normally been considered rather dull. She marked her place in the book and closed it on the table, gesturing for Will to come over. She put her arm around him and kissed him on the forehead.
"Mo-om!" The nine-year-old boy complained, snaking out of his mother's grip.
"What, too old for your mother now?" she teased.
Will made to protest, but just smiled in return, giving his mother a quick kiss on the cheek. "I've got to go, mum."
A familiar crease between her brows, a familiar look in her eyes. "To the docks again, Will?" He nodded. "Why don't you stay home today? I could use some help around the house…"
Will looked up at his mother pleadingly. "Please, mum! Today might be…"
He trailed off as she sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opened them the familiar expression in them was gone. "Don't forget your coat. It's getting chilly out."
Will beamed. "Thanks, mum!" And he raced back to the foyer, grabbing his coat from its hanger before rushing outside.
It was getting cold out. It was October; the leaves were colored in brilliant shades of red, orange, and yellow, and the crisp air was the second reminder that it was definitely autumn in England.
Will raced down the cobblestone streets. The few neighbors who weren't still sleeping called out to him from their windows above, and he waved hurriedly up at them in response. The streets were still empty for the most part at this early an hour, but this was all routine for Will.
Eventually he came to the docks. The sea was grey; not the deep, sparkling blue of summer, not yet the rather melancholy color of winter, nor the promising grey-green of spring. Will knew well how the ocean looked in all the seasons, from countless hours spent at the docks, looking out to sea in every season, no matter how cold or warm it was. He would've gone to the docks in the snow and rain if his mother would've permitted him to.
Will didn't spend all his time at the docks, though. Many days were spent at school, and some were spent with his friends, or staying home with his mum. But he did go down to the docks whenever he could find extra time. He had asked his mother if she'd like to come too, and she had, a few times, albeit reluctantly. But mostly she didn't accompany him. He wondered if sometimes she went to the docks by herself, like he did.
He stood at the edge of the docks, as far as civilians were permitted. He scanned the ships in port, but his eyes quickly became focused on the horizon.
By the looks of it, there were no ships coming toward England. But, Will noted as he buttoned up his coat, his hair blowing about – there was a strong wind… favorable for sailors.
Maybe this would be the wind that brought his father home.