A Pirate's Story
Chapter 3
The Blacksmith's Apprentice
Disclaimer: If I owned Orlando, would I really be wasting my time writing about him??! Ha!
Note: I know this isn't technically an original story of mine, but I just feel the movie provides so much on its own to write about, and thoughts and ideas kept coming to me as I watched (oh, only the last twenty times!). I've tried to be true to the movie itself, following every spoken word exactly, but the fill-in thoughts are my own idea of what the characters are thinking and feeling, based on the material given. I hope you enjoy. This is my first published writing of any kind, so be gentle! But honest reviews are appreciated!
~*~*~*~
The visitor stood in the entryway of the vast mansion, trying to look calm and collected, with a long black case under one arm. He was tall and slim, about twenty years old, with dark brown, shoulder-length wavy hair, tamed back into a low ponytail by a black ribbon. The handsome face was well- formed with strong, high cheekbones and smooth skin, graced by a bit of a goatee, small moustache, and long, slender sideburns. He wore his clothing simple and unadorned, that of an apprentice: a white shirt with a high collar and billowing sleeves, dark brown vest buttoned almost to the throat, black knee-breeches, grey stockings, and black shoes with gold buckles. More than his handsome features or his common clothes, what stood out most was that this young man was almost uncomfortable in his own skin, as if he just didn't know what to do with himself. And it wasn't just because he was a common apprentice unsuited to the fine appointments of a Governor's mansion. It was like he didn't know where he fit in life, and therefore was always unsure, was always searching for approval, upholding honor and respecting his superiors, in the hopes that they would find him acceptable company.
Waiting for the Governor's entrance, he sauntered casually to one wall, examining a kerosene lamp fixture there. His curiosity ever exploring, he reached to touch one, and it came off in his hand, a loud THUMP echoing throughout the great room. Glancing around in a panic to put it somewhere, he set it down in a cane stand on the floor against the wall, straightening up just as a butler walked by with a silver tray, eyeing him suspiciously. The young man nodded acknowledgement, feigning nonchalance, as the butler swept by frostily. Oh, my! I hope he didn't see that!
The Governor coming down the staircase drew his attention to the reason he was here.
"Ah, Mr. Turner, so good to see you again!"
"Good day, Sir." Will walked over and laid the case on the table that stood in the room. "I have your order." He hoped the Governor was pleased with it.
"Good!" The Governor smiled as Will opened the case and, lifting out a sheathed sword, presented it to Swan with a small bow of his head. As the Governor unsheathed and examined it, Will went on to describe it, confidence and a hint of pride coloring his voice at the glow of appreciation in Swan's eyes.
"The blade is folded steel; that's gold filigree laid into the handle." The Governor looked accordingly. "If I may?" He held out his hands. Swan turned the blade around to hand it to Will, hilt-first.
As soon as that hilt filled his palm, a change came over Will. It was as if here, he had found a place of belonging, and the skin of awkwardness simply fell away, revealing a strong man of integrity.
"Perfectly balanced," he proclaimed, his voice strong and warm, as if intimately acquainted with this weapon. He balanced the sword on two fingers, showing that the length of the blade was the exact matching weight of the handle, a mark of good craftsmanship. If Swan had looked closely, he would have noticed that the sword being examined had turned the nervous apprentice into a confident young man. Obviously, this was an area in which he felt comfortable. "The tang is nearly the full width of the blade." He then expertly twirled it up in the air, causing Swan to step back in surprise. Catching it by the handle, Will humbly presented it again to the Governor. Swan took and re-sheathed it.
"Impressive! Very impressive! Commodore Norrington's going to be very pleased with this!" The Governor was delighted at being able to present such fine quality to the Commodore.
Will allowed himself a small smile of pleasure at the Governor's satisfaction, as he closed the case, in preparation to leave. At least, he was pleased until the Governor's next remark.
"Do pass on my compliments to your master."
Will's smile was replaced with a look of disappointment, but he recovered quickly as he replied, "I shall. A craftsman is always pleased to hear his work is appreciated." How surprised would Governor Swan be to learn that Will did all the blacksmithing work now? That lazy bag of bones he apprenticed under can't but his bottle down long enough to be of use! His thoughts were cut short at the sight that met his gaze coming down the stairs.
The Governor exclaimed, "Elizabeth, you look absolutely stunning!" The soft green and cream gown showcased her waist, made tinier by the tight stays, the lace trim framing her smooth, perfectly white bosom, shown off by the low neckline of the gown. One tendril of a ringlet hung over her left shoulder, while the rest was swept up under her hat, a flat lace thing the hovered above her head, tied in the back by a wide sheer ribbon that floated out behind her.
Will was speechless. The confidence found with a sword was lost in the presence of this heavenly creature, all fire and softness. How could he be tongue-tied after all their years of growing up together? Why couldn't he be freer to speak around her? He knew why - they may have know each other so long, but society kept an invisible wall between them. As the son of a merchant, and an orphan at that, whose family history was completely unknown, society considered him "below" someone such as Elizabeth, while his heart's desire yearned for more. He knew her father would not look favorably upon a suit from a lowly blacksmith's apprentice. In Swan's eyes, he didn't have much to offer Elizabeth in the way of worldly goods, his ability to provide for her. Well, if love and devotion were measured, he would make her richer than a queen. Will had loved her from the first moment they met, on that foggy ship years ago. He stood riveted as she made her way down the stairs.
Elizabeth's face lighted up as she saw who was visiting her father. "Will! It's so good to see you! I had a dream about you last night." Pressing a hand to her bodice to still her giddy heart, she quickened her pace down the stairs and came to stand before Will and her father. From the day she found him, her heart had reached out to him. She knew he had become an orphan that day, but why were they sailing? Why had he been wearing that gold coin she had found on him? Everything about him intrigued her, and their friendship had developed over the ensuing years. She had preyed on her father's soft heart, asking him to find a place for him in the military- outpost Caribbean port that had become their home, to prevent him from being sent away as a servant to some unknown family, or to an orphanage. Little did she know that Will didn't want to go anywhere that wasn't in close proximity to her, anyway. It had gone unnoticed that they spent time together as children, for he was just an "unimportant orphan," a "little nobody from nowhere," as some townsfolk so eloquently phrased it. Being the Governor's daughter, with no mother to watch over her, she managed to slip past "propriety" when she had a chance, and spend more time with the boy than her father would probably have approved of, had he known. Will not only held the key to the mystery that she had hidden in her dresser drawer these past eight years, but he was a witty and charming companion, entertaining her as no one else could. As she grew older, she became more aware of how society viewed him, but he would always be the mysterious pirate in her heart.
Will was startled at Elizabeth's announced dream, but tried to keep his voice even. "About me?" he asked, inclining his head to her in acknowledgement of her entrance. Was it possible that she grew even more beautiful every day? He would never have command over his own heart again. She was actually having dreams about him? Could it mean what he hoped? If only!
Her father was also startled at this announcement, and didn't attempt to hide his embarrassment, although he softened the reprimand in front of young Turner. "Ahem, yes, well, is that entirely proper for you to."
Glancing impatiently at her father, she interrupted him to answer Will's question, "About the day we met - do you remember?"
Will gathered his wits enough to reply, "How could I forget, Miss Swan?" Her skin was smooth as cream, and more soft ringlets framed her face, making his fingers itch to catch one. Her beauty and vitality just sucked the very breath from him!
"Will," she leaned towards him in earnest, "How many times must I ask you to call me Elizabeth?" Why was he still insisting on this formality? They had known each other half their lives, and Elizabeth thought it was high time they dropped the charade. They had always been comfortable together, and she had thought nothing of mentioning her dream to him, but Will was ever conscious of his lack of family status, and continually toed the line of social properness. Surely he wasn't trying to impress her father? The Governor had never actually encouraged her association with Will, but he had come to accept him years ago, so Will shouldn't feel compelled to continually 'prove' himself. Being the Governor's daughter wasn't all it was cracked up to be. She often wished she had run of the streets as the common children did. Her fiery spirit chafed under the restraints of being ladylike, especially in matters of dress!
Her blue-green eyes just about swallowed him up as she invited him to be more familiar with her. He managed to get control of his tongue just long enough to squeeze out, "At least once more, Miss Swan - as always." He gazed at her bright and expectant face, only to see it fall in disappointment, and then quickly cover with a mask of coolness. Didn't she realize he had a certain boundary to keep, with her father standing right there? Were they alone, and he could ever find the courage, he would lay his heart at her feet right then and there, no matter the consequence. But something always held him back. She deserved so much better then a dirty blacksmith.
"There, see?" the governor broke in, "at least the boy has a sense of propriety, now we really must be going," and he leaned over between them to take the sheathed sword off the table. He was anxious to end this interlude between his daughter and this urchin of a young man. His heart went out to the lad and his circumstances, but really, propriety must be kept, and he would see to that, even if his brash daughter refused to follow the boundaries of decorum.
Elizabeth wondered if she would ever get behind Will's shell of gentlemanly manners. Over the last couple years, he had grown more distant and proper towards her, not like the easy comraderie of their youth. She had never turned her nose up at the demands society placed on their behavior towards each other, so why was he acting like this? As a lady, she would never be able to just blurt out her feelings, so she was hard put to let him know how she felt, to encourage him to speak of what was between them. Or was she only imagining that look in his eyes as she came down the stairs?
"Good day, Mr. Turner," she clipped out, ignoring Will's blink of surprise at the sudden change in her demeanor and tone, and followed her father out the door with a half-dozen servants. As the horses clop-clopped out of the mansion's drive, Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder out the carriage window, leaving Will standing on the front steps, watching them go.
Will gazed in awed anguish as he watched the large, gilt-trimmed carriage carry his heart away with the Governor's daughter. "Good day .. Elizabeth," he softly replied, to no one in particular. He savored the taste of her name on his tongue. Oh, to have the freedom to shout that name on the rooftops, proclaiming her to be his!
~*~*~*~
Chapter 3
The Blacksmith's Apprentice
Disclaimer: If I owned Orlando, would I really be wasting my time writing about him??! Ha!
Note: I know this isn't technically an original story of mine, but I just feel the movie provides so much on its own to write about, and thoughts and ideas kept coming to me as I watched (oh, only the last twenty times!). I've tried to be true to the movie itself, following every spoken word exactly, but the fill-in thoughts are my own idea of what the characters are thinking and feeling, based on the material given. I hope you enjoy. This is my first published writing of any kind, so be gentle! But honest reviews are appreciated!
~*~*~*~
The visitor stood in the entryway of the vast mansion, trying to look calm and collected, with a long black case under one arm. He was tall and slim, about twenty years old, with dark brown, shoulder-length wavy hair, tamed back into a low ponytail by a black ribbon. The handsome face was well- formed with strong, high cheekbones and smooth skin, graced by a bit of a goatee, small moustache, and long, slender sideburns. He wore his clothing simple and unadorned, that of an apprentice: a white shirt with a high collar and billowing sleeves, dark brown vest buttoned almost to the throat, black knee-breeches, grey stockings, and black shoes with gold buckles. More than his handsome features or his common clothes, what stood out most was that this young man was almost uncomfortable in his own skin, as if he just didn't know what to do with himself. And it wasn't just because he was a common apprentice unsuited to the fine appointments of a Governor's mansion. It was like he didn't know where he fit in life, and therefore was always unsure, was always searching for approval, upholding honor and respecting his superiors, in the hopes that they would find him acceptable company.
Waiting for the Governor's entrance, he sauntered casually to one wall, examining a kerosene lamp fixture there. His curiosity ever exploring, he reached to touch one, and it came off in his hand, a loud THUMP echoing throughout the great room. Glancing around in a panic to put it somewhere, he set it down in a cane stand on the floor against the wall, straightening up just as a butler walked by with a silver tray, eyeing him suspiciously. The young man nodded acknowledgement, feigning nonchalance, as the butler swept by frostily. Oh, my! I hope he didn't see that!
The Governor coming down the staircase drew his attention to the reason he was here.
"Ah, Mr. Turner, so good to see you again!"
"Good day, Sir." Will walked over and laid the case on the table that stood in the room. "I have your order." He hoped the Governor was pleased with it.
"Good!" The Governor smiled as Will opened the case and, lifting out a sheathed sword, presented it to Swan with a small bow of his head. As the Governor unsheathed and examined it, Will went on to describe it, confidence and a hint of pride coloring his voice at the glow of appreciation in Swan's eyes.
"The blade is folded steel; that's gold filigree laid into the handle." The Governor looked accordingly. "If I may?" He held out his hands. Swan turned the blade around to hand it to Will, hilt-first.
As soon as that hilt filled his palm, a change came over Will. It was as if here, he had found a place of belonging, and the skin of awkwardness simply fell away, revealing a strong man of integrity.
"Perfectly balanced," he proclaimed, his voice strong and warm, as if intimately acquainted with this weapon. He balanced the sword on two fingers, showing that the length of the blade was the exact matching weight of the handle, a mark of good craftsmanship. If Swan had looked closely, he would have noticed that the sword being examined had turned the nervous apprentice into a confident young man. Obviously, this was an area in which he felt comfortable. "The tang is nearly the full width of the blade." He then expertly twirled it up in the air, causing Swan to step back in surprise. Catching it by the handle, Will humbly presented it again to the Governor. Swan took and re-sheathed it.
"Impressive! Very impressive! Commodore Norrington's going to be very pleased with this!" The Governor was delighted at being able to present such fine quality to the Commodore.
Will allowed himself a small smile of pleasure at the Governor's satisfaction, as he closed the case, in preparation to leave. At least, he was pleased until the Governor's next remark.
"Do pass on my compliments to your master."
Will's smile was replaced with a look of disappointment, but he recovered quickly as he replied, "I shall. A craftsman is always pleased to hear his work is appreciated." How surprised would Governor Swan be to learn that Will did all the blacksmithing work now? That lazy bag of bones he apprenticed under can't but his bottle down long enough to be of use! His thoughts were cut short at the sight that met his gaze coming down the stairs.
The Governor exclaimed, "Elizabeth, you look absolutely stunning!" The soft green and cream gown showcased her waist, made tinier by the tight stays, the lace trim framing her smooth, perfectly white bosom, shown off by the low neckline of the gown. One tendril of a ringlet hung over her left shoulder, while the rest was swept up under her hat, a flat lace thing the hovered above her head, tied in the back by a wide sheer ribbon that floated out behind her.
Will was speechless. The confidence found with a sword was lost in the presence of this heavenly creature, all fire and softness. How could he be tongue-tied after all their years of growing up together? Why couldn't he be freer to speak around her? He knew why - they may have know each other so long, but society kept an invisible wall between them. As the son of a merchant, and an orphan at that, whose family history was completely unknown, society considered him "below" someone such as Elizabeth, while his heart's desire yearned for more. He knew her father would not look favorably upon a suit from a lowly blacksmith's apprentice. In Swan's eyes, he didn't have much to offer Elizabeth in the way of worldly goods, his ability to provide for her. Well, if love and devotion were measured, he would make her richer than a queen. Will had loved her from the first moment they met, on that foggy ship years ago. He stood riveted as she made her way down the stairs.
Elizabeth's face lighted up as she saw who was visiting her father. "Will! It's so good to see you! I had a dream about you last night." Pressing a hand to her bodice to still her giddy heart, she quickened her pace down the stairs and came to stand before Will and her father. From the day she found him, her heart had reached out to him. She knew he had become an orphan that day, but why were they sailing? Why had he been wearing that gold coin she had found on him? Everything about him intrigued her, and their friendship had developed over the ensuing years. She had preyed on her father's soft heart, asking him to find a place for him in the military- outpost Caribbean port that had become their home, to prevent him from being sent away as a servant to some unknown family, or to an orphanage. Little did she know that Will didn't want to go anywhere that wasn't in close proximity to her, anyway. It had gone unnoticed that they spent time together as children, for he was just an "unimportant orphan," a "little nobody from nowhere," as some townsfolk so eloquently phrased it. Being the Governor's daughter, with no mother to watch over her, she managed to slip past "propriety" when she had a chance, and spend more time with the boy than her father would probably have approved of, had he known. Will not only held the key to the mystery that she had hidden in her dresser drawer these past eight years, but he was a witty and charming companion, entertaining her as no one else could. As she grew older, she became more aware of how society viewed him, but he would always be the mysterious pirate in her heart.
Will was startled at Elizabeth's announced dream, but tried to keep his voice even. "About me?" he asked, inclining his head to her in acknowledgement of her entrance. Was it possible that she grew even more beautiful every day? He would never have command over his own heart again. She was actually having dreams about him? Could it mean what he hoped? If only!
Her father was also startled at this announcement, and didn't attempt to hide his embarrassment, although he softened the reprimand in front of young Turner. "Ahem, yes, well, is that entirely proper for you to."
Glancing impatiently at her father, she interrupted him to answer Will's question, "About the day we met - do you remember?"
Will gathered his wits enough to reply, "How could I forget, Miss Swan?" Her skin was smooth as cream, and more soft ringlets framed her face, making his fingers itch to catch one. Her beauty and vitality just sucked the very breath from him!
"Will," she leaned towards him in earnest, "How many times must I ask you to call me Elizabeth?" Why was he still insisting on this formality? They had known each other half their lives, and Elizabeth thought it was high time they dropped the charade. They had always been comfortable together, and she had thought nothing of mentioning her dream to him, but Will was ever conscious of his lack of family status, and continually toed the line of social properness. Surely he wasn't trying to impress her father? The Governor had never actually encouraged her association with Will, but he had come to accept him years ago, so Will shouldn't feel compelled to continually 'prove' himself. Being the Governor's daughter wasn't all it was cracked up to be. She often wished she had run of the streets as the common children did. Her fiery spirit chafed under the restraints of being ladylike, especially in matters of dress!
Her blue-green eyes just about swallowed him up as she invited him to be more familiar with her. He managed to get control of his tongue just long enough to squeeze out, "At least once more, Miss Swan - as always." He gazed at her bright and expectant face, only to see it fall in disappointment, and then quickly cover with a mask of coolness. Didn't she realize he had a certain boundary to keep, with her father standing right there? Were they alone, and he could ever find the courage, he would lay his heart at her feet right then and there, no matter the consequence. But something always held him back. She deserved so much better then a dirty blacksmith.
"There, see?" the governor broke in, "at least the boy has a sense of propriety, now we really must be going," and he leaned over between them to take the sheathed sword off the table. He was anxious to end this interlude between his daughter and this urchin of a young man. His heart went out to the lad and his circumstances, but really, propriety must be kept, and he would see to that, even if his brash daughter refused to follow the boundaries of decorum.
Elizabeth wondered if she would ever get behind Will's shell of gentlemanly manners. Over the last couple years, he had grown more distant and proper towards her, not like the easy comraderie of their youth. She had never turned her nose up at the demands society placed on their behavior towards each other, so why was he acting like this? As a lady, she would never be able to just blurt out her feelings, so she was hard put to let him know how she felt, to encourage him to speak of what was between them. Or was she only imagining that look in his eyes as she came down the stairs?
"Good day, Mr. Turner," she clipped out, ignoring Will's blink of surprise at the sudden change in her demeanor and tone, and followed her father out the door with a half-dozen servants. As the horses clop-clopped out of the mansion's drive, Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder out the carriage window, leaving Will standing on the front steps, watching them go.
Will gazed in awed anguish as he watched the large, gilt-trimmed carriage carry his heart away with the Governor's daughter. "Good day .. Elizabeth," he softly replied, to no one in particular. He savored the taste of her name on his tongue. Oh, to have the freedom to shout that name on the rooftops, proclaiming her to be his!
~*~*~*~