~*~

Chapter Sixteen

Already Lost

~*~

               Will woke up the next morning to the morning beams of sunlight shining through his eyelashes. The pounding knock on the door also helped a bit.

               He dragged himself out of his hammock and trudged through the cluttered workshop, running a hand through his hair and making a halfhearted effort to fix his appearance before he opened the door. He needn't have worried, however, it was only a rather frenzied looking maid standing on his doorstep. "Hello," Will mumbled groggily, "welcome to Brown's Blacksmith…I'm Will."

               "Captain Norrington of the British Royal Navy requests that you come to the governor's house, sir," said the maid, "he says he wishes to place an order, or something. I think that was what he said…"

               "When does he need me?" Will asked, leaning onto the doorpost as he tried to shake the sleep from his eyes.

               "Right now, sir," said the maid. "And I'm Ana, by the way…" 

               "I'll be there…just one moment…" Will shut the door on the prattling maid and hurried to the back of the shop where they kept a small, cracked mirror and a washbasin. He hurriedly splashed some water on his face and smoothed his hair, and then he changed into a clean shirt and trousers. "My hat…where are you?" he called to his hat as he wandered around the shop looking for the missing item. The hat was found behind a pile of empty beer bottles.

               The maid was waiting outside of the blacksmith's shop, and Will was surprised that she wasn't still talking. She had a nagging poor English accent, and it was all the worse because she didn't stop talking until they reached the pointed cast-iron gates that barricaded the governor's house from the rest of Port Royale. A prim-looking British officer was patrolling outside the gates, his rifle angled over his shoulder and his boots so shiny that Will feared they would fall straight to pieces in battle. Ana told something to the guard, who gave a crisp nod and opened the gates for them. Ana then led Will up to the front steps, where a butler opened the door and beckoned them inside.

               Soft harpsichord music was wafting in from the parlor, where two officers in the telltale red coats were seated with the governor on two couches, drinking tea.

               "I think it is an excellent proposal," said the dark-haired officer that Will knew was Captain Norrington. "She is as beautiful and, may I say, as intelligent as they come. I could not imagine myself being any luckier."

               "Yes, I'm sure that she will wholeheartedly welcome the idea," said the governor as a maid offered him a plate of scones. He took one and then turned back to his company. "We shall make arrangements at a later date." Norrington nodded. Will noted that Elizabeth was nowhere to be found as the governor took notice of him standing awkwardly in the doorway and beckoned him inside. Will stepped forward and bowed.

               "Hello, Mr. Turner," said the governor, smiling and turning to Norrington and his friend. "Norrington, Gillette, this is the extremely skilled, if I may," he said, nodding to Will, "blacksmith's apprentice. He is very talented with sword making."

               "Well, we have to give the new recruits something," said Gillette with a raise of his eyebrow. Norrington laughed.

               "Very well then," said Norrington, rising from his seat and beckoning to his assistant, who brought him a sword. Norrington then handed the weapon to Will, hilt first. Will drew the sword out of its sheath and examined it, thinking that there might be something wrong with the blade like in the instance of Connor's dented sword. Norrington cleared his throat. "I need ten more swords, like this one," Norrington said. "They don't have to be fancy or intricate, the idiots that are training to be officers for Great Britain wouldn't know intricacy if it hit them in the face." The officer laughed dryly as Will placed the sword back into it's sheath.

               "Alright," said Will. "When do you need them by?"

               Norrington shrugged. "Two weeks? I'll send my assistant to fetch them from your…place of work."

               "Ten swords, two weeks," Will whispered to himself as Norrington took the sword back from him and handed it back to his assistant.

               "You're dismissed, Mr. Turner," said the governor.

               "Right." Will turned on his heel and headed back into the foyer when he heard someone calling his name.

               "Hello, Will," said Elizabeth, who was standing on the landing of the stairs. She was wearing a white lace dress with long sleeves that set off her pale skin. Her hair was piled on top of her head, with a deliberate looking curl trailing down one of the sides. Although Will thought she looked beautiful, like an angel, no doubt, a small cynical voice in the back of his head whispered that that hair would not last a moment if Elizabeth was called to some sort of practical task like milking a cow or something of the sort.

               "Miss Swann," he managed to say, and breathily too, as the majority of him was feeling rather swept away by her rather unearthly presence. She glided down the stairs towards him and smiled brightly.

               "Will," she said routinely, as always, "How many times must I ask you to call me Elizabeth?"

               Will sighed. "At least one more time, as always, Miss Swann." And, as always, Elizabeth's eyes clouded and she became more drawn back then before, more disappointed.

               "So have you been faring well?" she asked.

               "Yes, very well," answered Will, not knowing quite what to say.

               "That's good," said Elizabeth.

               "How have you fared?" said Will, thinking that that was the proper thing to do. However, it didn't quite sound natural coming from his lips. It sounded funny to him, too proper to be spoken by a blacksmith.

               "As well as one can fare when one is cooped up in this big house all day long," she laughed. "I hear Captain Norrington is putting you to work."

               "One must work to put food on the table, Miss Swann," he replied.

               "Yes, of course," she said, even though she knew nothing of work. She was leaning forward slightly over the railing of the staircase, and Will awkwardly tried to avoid looking at her slightly prominent bust.

               "Um…" Will said.

               "The other day, I was thinking about the day we met," said Elizabeth rather abruptly. "When we were crossing from England…do you ever wish you could go back? To England, I mean."

               Will thought for a moment. "No." he said. "Never."

               Elizabeth paused, not expecting such a definite answer. "May I inquire as to why not?" she asked.

               "I belong here in Port Royale," said Will simply. "Everything I ever had, everything that I have ever cared about that is not already lost is in Port Royale. If I went back to England, I would have nothing. I would have to start over…again."

               Elizabeth cocked her head. "I would go with you to England," she said.

               "Then maybe, one day, I will consider it," said Will, "but not for a time yet."

               Elizabeth nodded. "Goodbye, Mr. Turner."

               "Goodbye, Miss Swann." Will walked out the door and closed it on one of the most awkward conversations he had ever had in his entire life.