Author's Note - Introspection time!
Chapter Six
The young blacksmith worked well into the night, ignoring the growing fatigue in his arms and the ache in his hands. Illuminated only by candlelight, Will's smithy was silent, save for the rhythmic pound pound of his hammer and the gasping of air in and out of his lungs.
His work had improved greatly since Elizabeth had gone back to England, and Will couldn't help but wonder.
Elizabeth was beautiful and determined, and he had no doubt that she had a great future ahead of her. She cared greatly about him, had gone to great lengths to save him, and he had been thrilled that a woman whom he had loved so secretly and deeply had returned his affections. They had been happy when they had parted ways with Jack. But things had begun to change.
Her father had never been pleased, had never accepted what Will and Elizabeth had believed they shared. His flippant and cutting remark on the tower had stung Will profoundly, though at that time Elizabeth had seemed not to notice. 'Just a blacksmith' had resounded in his ears for a long time following that, and he was starting to think that it had in Elizabeth's too.
Will flipped over the sword on his anvil and hammered the other side all the harder.
Their adventure together had made them very close, but it had also proven Elizabeth to herself. No longer did she find it so easy to accept a life of pouting in carriages and tight-fitting dresses. She had grown, and while Will had been thrilled, there had also been a recklessness revealed in her. She had held her own against pirates and monsters and emerged unscathed - what ties then did this woman have to anyone or anything? How could she sit and be wooed when her soul had begun to yearn for freedom and glorious independence? What could Will provide her but the comfort and careful care that her father had given her and that she had yearned to escape?
Losing Elizabeth seemed a very plausible thing, but Will was slowly discovering that it was not as painful - or undesired - as he had thought. Like her, he had lived a sheltered life under the watchful - when not bleary with drink - eye of the blacksmith Browne. Elizabeth had always been there, a beautiful and untouchable dream. His eyes had never strayed to another But now he was beginning to feel as though the world was a larger place, and that there was more.
So much more.
He stopped his labor suddenly and opened wide the window that looked out to the harbor. Evening wind cooled his sweat-soaked shirt and the water whispered gently against the docks. He did not know what he would say to Elizabeth upon her return. He did not know if she would return to him as the woman that he had loved as a child. There had been something in the wind these last months, and Will could sense that things were changing. He could not say that he was disappointed.
Chapter Six
The young blacksmith worked well into the night, ignoring the growing fatigue in his arms and the ache in his hands. Illuminated only by candlelight, Will's smithy was silent, save for the rhythmic pound pound of his hammer and the gasping of air in and out of his lungs.
His work had improved greatly since Elizabeth had gone back to England, and Will couldn't help but wonder.
Elizabeth was beautiful and determined, and he had no doubt that she had a great future ahead of her. She cared greatly about him, had gone to great lengths to save him, and he had been thrilled that a woman whom he had loved so secretly and deeply had returned his affections. They had been happy when they had parted ways with Jack. But things had begun to change.
Her father had never been pleased, had never accepted what Will and Elizabeth had believed they shared. His flippant and cutting remark on the tower had stung Will profoundly, though at that time Elizabeth had seemed not to notice. 'Just a blacksmith' had resounded in his ears for a long time following that, and he was starting to think that it had in Elizabeth's too.
Will flipped over the sword on his anvil and hammered the other side all the harder.
Their adventure together had made them very close, but it had also proven Elizabeth to herself. No longer did she find it so easy to accept a life of pouting in carriages and tight-fitting dresses. She had grown, and while Will had been thrilled, there had also been a recklessness revealed in her. She had held her own against pirates and monsters and emerged unscathed - what ties then did this woman have to anyone or anything? How could she sit and be wooed when her soul had begun to yearn for freedom and glorious independence? What could Will provide her but the comfort and careful care that her father had given her and that she had yearned to escape?
Losing Elizabeth seemed a very plausible thing, but Will was slowly discovering that it was not as painful - or undesired - as he had thought. Like her, he had lived a sheltered life under the watchful - when not bleary with drink - eye of the blacksmith Browne. Elizabeth had always been there, a beautiful and untouchable dream. His eyes had never strayed to another But now he was beginning to feel as though the world was a larger place, and that there was more.
So much more.
He stopped his labor suddenly and opened wide the window that looked out to the harbor. Evening wind cooled his sweat-soaked shirt and the water whispered gently against the docks. He did not know what he would say to Elizabeth upon her return. He did not know if she would return to him as the woman that he had loved as a child. There had been something in the wind these last months, and Will could sense that things were changing. He could not say that he was disappointed.