Author's Note: Hey everyone, Failing Hope has returned! I know this is taking longer, but with college started, I've been decidedly more busy than usual, but I will continue to try and keep the chapters coming out. Although, I figure that there may only be one more chapter as it stands for now. We'll see.
Also, this chapter deals *completely* with what happened in-between scenes, so there are no parts taken from the movie in this chapter. My common disclaimer also states that I own nothing from the movie nor do I make any profit in this writing. I'm sorry that once again I do not have the time to respond individually to everyone who reviewed, but I would like to thank you all immensely. Your support is highly valued! So please take the time to leave me a review after reading! :D I hope everyone enjoys the next chapter!
Failing Hope
Chapter 6
As the HMS Dauntless skimmed across the endless sapphire surface of the ocean, a salty breeze sent Will Turner's hair floating behind him. He sighed deeply, leaning heavily against the smooth curving banister that followed the ship's sides. His head fell into a crook created by the folded position of his arms on the railing. His eyes stung fiercely, but no tears would come. Yes, he survived Barbossa and his crew, but what did he have left? Elizabeth had already promised herself to Norrington and Jack was locked away in the ship's brig, awaiting his doom back at Port Royal.
Another strong breeze sent a lock of wild curls flying. Looking up, Will hastily tied the renegade hair back into a plait with a bit of ripped material that was left from when he bound his bleeding palm. He drew his calloused hand slowly back from his head and stared at the gruffly bandaged palm. The raggedy off-white material had already begun to stain with the slow crimson blood flow that continued. Will tightly closed his fist, locking his jaw at the same time. His gaze turned upward and he watched the sun as it sank slowly into the dark depths of the sea. The brilliant waters bled a scarlet red and the bottom rims of the sky reflected a deep pink.
"William Turner." A prim voice grabbed the blacksmith's attention, and the young man slowly turned to face his addresser.
"Commodore." Will met Norrington's firm gaze with certainty, but his face reflected utter defeat.
A small nod acknowledged Will's greeting, but the older man's look soon turned away from Will and toward the setting sun. "Beautiful, isn't it?" The commodore's hands rested lightly on the white oak railing as he spoke.
Will swallowed, blinking hard. "To some people, I suppose. To others it indicates the ending of the day and onset of darkness. It all simply depends on one's point of view." The blacksmith sighed and looked away, the words catching in his throat as he spoke them.
In a stiff, regal manner, Norrington turned to look at Will Turner. His face, unlike his actions, was perceptive. He took in the broken stance of the blacksmith. Will stood facing away from Norrington with his shoulder stooped and head hung slightly. Taking a deep breath, the commodore continued the conversation, choosing his words carefully. "Do not take me for a fool, Mr. Turner."
The dark-haired head snapped back to look at the one who spoke such accusing words. Will's mouth was open, slightly agape as he searched for words to try to combat the assault that he seemed to be under. "I don't believe I understand, Commodore…"
The look of bewilderment on the young man's face was almost enough to make Norrington smile. "But I do." He countered quickly, holding up a properly trimmed hand to stop any further words from the other man. "I realize that Elizabeth loves you, Mr. Turner."
A breath caught in Will's throat when the words entered his ears and he choked out a surprised cry. "What?" He questioned feebly, trying to process where this conversation was going.
The uniform-clad man turned to his right, rubbing his hands together in contemplation. "Yes, I have known this for some time, William." The commodore's gaze turned to meet the blacksmith's own confused stare. "However, I do not believe you understand completely the complexity of the society to which both she and I are bound. Elizabeth has grown up a child of wealth and prosperity, a woman of great prestige." He paused again, looking up as though the words that he searched for were written on a passing cloud. "As such, she must honor certain bonds and expectations."
Will furrowed his brow as the Commodore spoke, a deep well of resentment filling within him. Finally, he could take no more of Norrington's rationale. "She did not ask to be born into such a world, nor I into mine. It is enough that we love one another! We cannot possibly control the world around us!"
Norrington immediately pointed a finger directly at Will's face, his eyebrows raised. "No you cannot, and that is exactly the point I make. I ask this of you now, Mr. Turner. Let Ms. Swann take her proper course and do not interrupt. It is in her best interest that you let her go."
The already hard gaze of Will Turner turned even colder as Norrington spoke. Inside Will was shaking in a blinding rage. How dare Norrington try to make any assumptions of his character and worth? He knew nothing of what Will was or wasn't capable of doing! The blacksmith's next words were curt and irate. "What is in her best interest is listening to her heart, Commodore."
An empty smile worked onto the other man's face and he lowered his hand. "In a perfect world, Mr. Turner, that would indeed be the case. However, this is far from perfect." He paused and gazed at Will's dingy, frayed clothes with a small sneer of dismay. "How do you intend on providing for Ms. Swann as a blacksmith's apprentice? She is used to and expects the things that you will never be able to give her."
A knot of realization began to form in Will's stomach as the commodore's final statement sank in. As much as Elizabeth's love may have been reciprocated back to him, there was that social rift that once again appeared, uglier than ever. Elizabeth had grown up in a world of abundance and knew very little else. Will, however, knew only the world of difficulty where one had a hard time scraping up the means for regular meals. As much as Elizabeth may have cared, he would not have her give up all that she knew so that she could come live in the grime of the city with him. He simply could not do that. And as Will looked back at Norrington, he could tell by the gleam in the commander's eyes that he knew it just as well.
"I'm glad that you see it my way, Mr. Turner." The commodore simply stated before turning and leaving a disgusted and heartbroken Will to stand alone at the edge of the ship. The young man stood silently for a moment, allowing the constant cool breeze to hit his face before he violently slammed his fists onto the railing with an unintelligible cry of frustration.
How many times in his life had he been denied happiness because of money and status? Will clenched his teeth together, and ripped at the bandage on his hand, scrabbling to pull it off. With a desperate final tug, the material came loose and slackened before floating to the polished wood deck floor. Will stared at the gash that had just begun to scab over. It had all been for nothing. Will's eyes burned again with tears of sheer disappointment. He wiped hastily at them, determined to keep at least a small bit of dignity about himself.
"Will? Are you all right?" A soft voice floated into the blacksmith's ears and he turned, meeting the concerned gaze of Elizabeth Swann.
As quickly as their eyes met, Will hastily diverted his gaze back to the ocean. "I'm fine." No more words would come out. This hurt too much. Far too much.
A shiver traveled up Will's spine as Elizabeth's light hand came to rest on his shoulder. He couldn't look at her or she would see everything that was going through his mind. "You don't look fine." Her voice was even softer now.
Something snapped within Will at that statement and he turned to look at Elizabeth. There she stood, dressed elegantly once again. How convenient that her father would bring along extra dresses just in case. Her previous redcoat garb had been long abandoned, and her hair was tied up, leaving only a few strands to frame her face. Will could never provide that for her, no matter how many swords that he made.
Taking her hand, he pushed it lightly from his shoulder. That action provoked a curious glance from Elizabeth, but he hurriedly began to speak. "Everything is fine, and why shouldn't it be? The curse is broken, we are headed back to Port Royal, what part of it doesn't speak of things being fine? You will marry Norrington, just like you should; I will go back to the blacksmith life, as I should; and Jack will be hung, just as Norrington intended. Sounds bloody fantastic to me!" By the time Will had finished speaking, his tone had taken on harsh sarcasm.
Elizabeth looked at the seething blacksmith in a stunned silence. Her gaze traveled down to his hand, where blood ran down his wrist in a slow trickle. He had balled his hands at this point and managed to reopen the healing wound with his own fingernails. Elizabeth shook her head slowly, startled by his outburst. "What do you want of me? I promised to marry Norrington only to save you, Will! It was the only thing that I could do…I didn't know what to do."
Will turned away, disgusted with himself, knowing that he upset Elizabeth with his angry accusations. "Then it was too late anyhow. You could not save me from myself." He murmured, un-balling his hand. He softly hissed at the stinging pain that he unknowingly inflicted on himself. He turned his head and looked desolately at Elizabeth. "I could never give you what you deserve anyhow."
A look of confusion shimmered onto Elizabeth's face and she lowered her eyebrows in bewilderment. "You are I all I want, Will." She reached out, brushing her fingers lightly across his cheek. "You are all I need." Her heart was aching at the distance that Will seemed to desperate to place between the two of them. "Please, Will, understand!"
His heart warmed at the touch of Elizabeth's fingers and he reached up and met her hand tentatively with his own uninjured hand. His fingers wrapped delicately around her own and he held her hand to his face for a fleeting moment. Will closed his eyes and breathed in deeply before releasing her hand and backing away. Upon reopening his own eyes again, he was met with the heartbreaking look of pain on Elizabeth's face.
"I love you Elizabeth. I always have, but you deserve a better life. You deserve more than what I could ever give you." Will hoped that his last words would make her understand why he had to do this. It killed him inside, but he knew that this would be for the best.
Awkwardly, Will raised his hand in parting before turning and dashing away, needing to get away from the agonizing grief that burned in his soul. Originally, he had no specific intentions of running anywhere, but he soon found himself rapidly descending the stairs to the underbelly of the ship. He reached the bottom of the stairs and tentatively began searching for the one person who was being held as prisoner.
The darkness in the brig was overwhelming and brought the memories of Will's own recent adventures rushing to mind. He shook his head, trying to forget everything that happened. There was nothing left for him anymore, but maybe there would be some way that he could at least fix a few things. Will continued to scan the dark cells, hoping to spot something. After a few minutes, he sighed in frustration and leaned against the cool bars of a cell.
"As long as ye're this bloody close, did ye at least bring me some rum?" A voice from the darkness caused Will to bolt upright so quickly that he nearly lost his balance.
"Jack!" Will smiled broadly, glad that the pirate had not been tossed overboard by Norrington's men. Until Jack made himself heard, that situation had become a distinct growing possibility in Will's mind.
"Captain! Please do try to remember the captain part." Jack Sparrow looked particularly pained as he exasperatedly reminded the young Turner of his hard-earned status.
Unable to keep the relieved smile off his face, Will sighed in relief. "Yes, yes, Captain Jack Sparrow. Are you all right?" The younger man moved over to the bars of the cell that held the pirate and wrapped his hands around the cool metal.
Pushing himself up from his previous reclined position, the eccentric pirate looked questionably at Will with kohl-rimmed eyes. "Aye, I've had me some better and some worse brigs to be held in." His mouth turned up in an agitated scowl as he began speaking his thoughts aloud. "Speaking of which, I have a few concerns regarding the treatment of me Pearl."
Raising an eyebrow, Will pushed away from the cell and folded his arms in interest. "Please, continue." Somehow, he knew blame was going to come flying back to him faster than a parrot could caw, 'Polly want a cracker?'
As a response, several exaggerated grunts served as Jack's incentive as he arduously pushed himself to a standing position. He swaggered drunkenly forward to the front of the cell and motioned Will forward with a single crooked finger. With an obliging sigh, Will took the few steps forward and stood close to the bars.
Suddenly, Jack reached out and tightly enwrapped his fingers in the loose material of the blacksmith's shirt and pulled him close enough that his forehead rested against the bars of the cell.
"I would find it ever so kindly, Mr. Turner, if ye'd considerately stop blowing holes in my bloody ship!" After letting that bit of steam out, Jack relaxed his grip on the shirt and allowed Will to back up.
Will stared at the pirate incredulously before allowing a small smile to creep onto his face. "We did the best we could. Be glad that we threw all the cannon balls overboard before the battle even started."
A disappointed sigh fell from Jack's mouth and he glanced away, as though something else in the dark, empty brig had caught his undivided attention. Will stayed put, waiting for Jack to speak. It was this pirate alone right now, that was keeping him from falling into a deep pit of despair that would be near impossible to escape.
Acknowledging that Will had no intentions of leaving anytime in the near future, Jack slid his gaze back to the stationary blacksmith. "Well, ye've made it quite clear, lad, that ye have no intentions of going anywhere, so ye might as well be out with it." Emphasizing his disinterest in the situation, Jack picked halfheartedly at one of his filthy fingernails.
Will stepped forward, looking directly at the pirate, curiosity in his dark brown eyes. He fidgeted with the material holding his hair back, accidentally untying it, sending his mahogany locks tumbling into his face. Impatiently he brushed the hair away from his eyes and spoke. "Out with what?"
That comment from the young Turner drew Jack Sparrow's attention away from his fingernails and he lifted his head, eyebrows raised in incredulity. "You've come down 'ere searching like a crazed pirate for gold, gaspin' like ye've just run the length of the Carribean isles, and blood seeping down your hand. I know you didn't come down 'ere merely for the genuine goodwill of the act. So what be on your mind, Will?"
A pause followed Jack's observation and Will mentally stammered, trying to get his grip back. Was he that easy to see through? His first instinct was to defend his actions, so he quickly leapt into the action of doing so. "I was concerned to see how they were treating you, Jack. I don't appreciate being accused of having ulterior motives."
Through the dark rimmed kohl that nearly hid the pirate's eyes, Will could see the sparkle of amusement in Jack's eyes. "I'm touched, truly I am. Now what is it that ye really want?"
Will sighed, not amused that Jack had not believed his well thought out defense. "Fine." He turned away from the cell, walking a quick pace back and forth before turning and facing Jack again. "This has all been a waste. I have nothing to go back to anymore, Jack. I can't go back again – I can't face my life all over again!"
There was no immediate response from the pirate, and instead he stood stock-still. The only motion that came from him was when he brought his hand to a bead-covered strand of hair and ran it along it thoughtfully. "I see that you've discovered your little lady's bargain. Bloody shame."
Will's gaze turned harder as he looked critically at Jack. "What do you mean, bargain?" He vaguely remembered hearing Elizabeth say something earlier, but he had been in too much pain to care or heed her words.
As his hand slipped from his hair, Jack wiggled his fingers randomly, watching his many rings with intense concentration. Will began to wonder if the pirate was avoiding looking at him, or if he truly did have such a short attention span. "Surprised she didn't tell you herself. Norrington wanted to leave ye to Barbossa, Will. But Elizabeth wouldn't have it." He paused, his gaze darkening as he intently studied the ring on his index finger. "Bloody stubborn woman, that one."
Hitting the brig cell with moderate force, Will was rewarded with Jack's undivided, albeit short, attention. "What are you talking about?" He refused to lose Jack's eye contact.
Jack sighed and began to speak as though he were explaining quantum physics to an attention deficient child. "Ms. Swann promised to marry the commodore in exchange for your life, Mr. Turner." After finishing the brief and concise statement, Jack flipped his right hand in the air, waiting for a flicker of comprehension from the younger man.
Silence continued for several moments as Will absorbed this finally lucid piece of information. His heart plummeted. "She made a folly promise then. It would have been better to leave me to Barbossa instead of having me survive only to see this." Will's gaze dropped to the floor and his let the bulk of his weight lean against the strong iron door to Jack's cell.
Jack chewed thoughtfully on the inside of his check, noting the downcast face of the younger man. He lightly tapped on Will's shoulder, an obvious action demanding attention. Will turned his face slowly, meeting the contemplative expression of the pirate. "The way you're acting, ye'd think that it were you going to the gallows once we reach Port Royal."
Narrowing his eyes, Will laughed ruefully. "Our fates are never entirely unchangeable, Captain Sparrow." A flicker flared in the blacksmith's dark eyes as he spoke. "I don't intend to let fate win out entirely this time." A smile began to form on Will's lips and he turned his head to look at Jack directly. "Good day, Captain Sparrow."
A puzzled look worked its way onto the dark haired pirate's face as Will turned and dashed away from the cell, headed back above deck. A deep foreboding churned in his stomach, and Jack yelled after the young blacksmith. "William! Don't do anything…"
A door slammed, leaving Jack with the endless quiet that he dwelled in before the sudden appearance of Bootstrap's boy. Jack sighed exasperatedly.
"…stupid."
TBC…