It seems a lot of you thought that my last chapter was the end- what a crappy ending that would be! Here we go, this is the ending. It's meant to be a bit of a tear-jerker, but I'm bad at writing sad stuff, so just please review and tell me what you thought of it.
Oh, and thanks to all of you for reading thus far. If you want, you might also read one of the back stories to this- but only if you want. All my PotC stories are connected (for now) so please read and review if you want. Thanks again.
There will be no review replies this chapter.
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It was a drizzly day when Jack chose to set sail for the return journey. The crew loaded themselves and their provisions onboard, gathered their passengers, managed to get their captain sober enough to steer, and were ready to cast off, when they were finally informed by a winded little page from the Countyhouse that First Mate Turner would be just a quarter-hour late. It was this instance, and only this instance, when Jack decided to wave the usual protocol of "he who falls behind is left behind" and wait the short time it took Will to do what Jack naturally assumed he was doing- impregnating Aletté.
Not surprisingly, Jack was wrong.
Will stood on the terrace of Aletté's apartments, his hands clasping hers tenderly. Around them, the great tumbling terracotta pitchers were slick with rainfall, their plants spewing out with leaves of a dark, waxy green. Little blades of grass sprung up between the cracks in the stone slate floor. Aletté's apartments were old, worn, and yet somehow she loved them for it. Every crack in the stone, every vase that has tumbled its vines to the ground, every tree with a knotty trunk just added to the character of the place, like an ancient, beautiful ruin.
Will smiled weakly at her through his rain-soaked brown hair. Their last few days together had been damp and drizzly, but neither of them seemed to mind. They had each other- for now, at least.
Aletté brushed Will's sopping hair out of his eyes and pasted on a smile. "You should go."
He sighed. "You're sure you'll be alright?"
"Don't worry about me." Aletté soothed, a bit of that usual feisty gleam burning in her surreally bright eyes. "I'm a big girl now. I dress myself in the mornings and everything!" A little laughter danced its way into her voice. "I'll manage." She fixed her eyes on his with a more serious stare. "You should be worrying about your son." Her hands pulled out of his. "Go on. I'll be right here waiting."
"I'm coming back." Will assured her. "Jack says we'll be able to make the journey on the September winds. That's only three months- oh who am I kidding- three months is far too long! Oh Aletté, I'm sorry-"
"Will!" She laughed. "It's fine. You're coming back. That's all I need to know."
"I love you, Aletté." Will bowed away to leave, then paused mid-stride. There was one more thing he had to do. He turned back around and swept Aletté up into his arms, kissing her hungrily. Her heart gave a great wrench in her chest, and she broke the kiss before the tears came. As he pulled away, she felt something smooth and cold slide it's way onto her left ring finger. Will bowed to her again. "Goodbye, Lady Malycho."
And with that, he was off, striding away down the wet ceramic steps of the terrace, finally disappearing into the muddy, winding streets of Sierrbo. Aletté stood there for a long time, feet planted firmly on the ground, eyes locked on the ship that was slowly drifting out of the bay. She couldn't help wanting to cry, though she knew he would be returning soon.
He said he would come back.
She smiled through her tears, through the raindrops, and watched as her last glimpse of the tall, wet sails disappeared behind the peninsula.
He said he would come back.
All sense was telling her to go inside, out of the rain, though such a thing seemed almost a faded dream to Aletté. All she wanted to do was stand on the green, sprawling terrace and wait for his return. It was as if by not moving at all, perhaps he would return sooner.
He said he would come back.
She finally yielded and took shelter indoors, stripping off her drenched jacket and pulling closed a crushed velvet curtain, that she might change into a warmer, dryer outfit. Suddenly the ring Will had placed on her hand caught her eye. She held her hand up closer to her face and studied it carefully. It was a plain, cool silver band that glistened icily in the dim light that was now peeking through the dense rain clouds.
He said he would come back.
She closed her eyes and brought the ring to her chest, willing God to deliver her heart's message to her love.
Out at sea, Will paused a moment as Aletté's voice echoed quietly in his head.
I love you, I love you, I love you.
-Fin