Elizabeth Swann had everything a girl could ask for. A great father, a wonderful life, and the entire town of Port Royal under her thumb if she wished. One thing that was missing, was true love. She thought she had found that in Wi- Oh, oh that was ridiculous. She couldn't fall for a simpleton like Will Turner could she? He had her heart from the moment they met, and she even knew this. Despite the denial she was living in, she knew it. There was only one problem with that. Her father. He wanted her to marry within her 'class', but what was that. Classes. It was a pointless system to make people feel better or worse about their living arrangement. Elizabeth stepped out onto the balcony off her room, looking over the ocean with a sigh as she held something that was hanging from a chain around her neck. A golden medallion she had taken from Will the day they met; in fear that he was a pirate. She pushed the eerie piece into the bust of her dress as she placed her hands down on the railing looking out, her long hair swaying with the light sea breeze. Letting out a heavy breath, she turned to walk back into her quarters. She was chilled just from the short time of being out there, but for some reason, she didn't want to go in...everything about the house reminded her of where she was destined. And it wasn't as pleasant as it seemed.
As Will Turner closed the door to his master's stop, his first thought after securing his package tightly against his chest was to glance up the way to the house he was headed for. He was headed today to deliver a package, a piece which he'd poured all of himself into, to make his love's father pleased. Elizabeth, again there she was filling his every thought. As he dodged street carts and carriages, he tried to think back to a time when he hadn't known the beauty the world held. But it was foul trickery on the world's part, to have such an angel save his life, but never let them be together. Her world was a prison to him, he was forever bound to be who he was, a swords makers apprentice, the son of an unknown merchant, most importantly, he was bound by what he was not; Worthy in the eyes of Elizabeth's father. He would never be in army or navy, though he'd bet his life on being able to outfit any of those men. As he neared her home, he felt even more menial, wishing he had something nicer to wear, for Elizabeth. Even her father's footmen made him look like a street child in his soot marred clothes and unkempt hair. He wouldn't have given up the chance to see Elizabeth, but silently he wished his master would have been able to make the delivery and perhaps secure another commission. Instead it was him, holding his fine prize tight in work hardened hands, waiting nervously just inside the home's front door, waiting for an appearance from a member of the Swann family. which member, he could only hope.
Elizabeth's mind set to wander as she looked over the sparkling blue water, pushing her hair back from her expressionless face. She felt alone now, in more ways than one, as she headed back into her bedroom, her thoughts still drifted far beyond her present stand point. As she opened the door leading out to the hallway, she heard a knocking on the front door of the estate. "Who could that be?" She thought out loud, as she walked to the edge of the stairs. Heading to the door was one of the maids, whom always seemed to wear a smile despite their position. Opening the door the maid gestured for their visitor to enter the house, which caused Elizabeth's curiosity to grow. She was used to people coming in and out, it was a common, daily bout considering the position of her father. She wouldn't have expected any less really. A day left alone, wouldn't have been a real day at all. Elizabeth stepped a stair down, as she looked down. "Who comes calling?" She asked toward the woman who had answered, and the maid smiled happily. Why, it's Mr. Turner, Ms. Swann. Elizabeth heard, and it was almost like a fist to the stomach. Whenever she saw him now, it was like all of her breath escaped her being. Maybe he was more than just a simple blacksmith to her...he was her childhood 'crush', if you will. But even now, she couldn't lead on to such feelings. "Oh, splendid." Elizabeth said with a half smile, as she gripped the railing tightly, watching as Will entered the house with something in hand. Ah, it must have been something else her father had beckoned. What a surprise... She wished that for just one day, he would be able to make a social visit. But then again, that would have been looked upon as inappropriate. Perhaps. But not to her. It would have been a blessing of the sweetest kind. Too bad things didn't work out that way, Elizabeth thought to herself as she took a long, slow breath in. That was the trick, really, to keep breathing. Despite the feeling of the world stopping when she saw his face. Snap out of it, Elizabeth... she scolded herself silently.
It's so… He cut off his own thoughts as he caught sigh of Elizabeth at the stairs. God, keep breathing, he scolded himself as he looked around the room, for something else to focus his attention on. He couldn't be like this, not in her house.. maybe if she came to see him.. again he scolded himself, what would the people thing of the governor's daughter visiting a blacksmith's, a worthless drunken blacksmith at that. A painting of a woman, he'd just pretend to study that until Elizabeth got bored or her father came. But it didn't do the woman justice, not in Elizabeth's presence.. Suddenly he caught himself staring at her and looked away quickly, examining a light fixture. Had she seen him staring? Had she been staring too? A small smile crept across his face as that thought hit him for a moment. did she still hang anything on the soft looks and warm talks they'd had as children? she couldn't possibly have weighed as much on his gestures and smiles as he had on hers.. could she? Taking a deep breathe, he finally looked up, catching her eyes. "Hello Ms. Swann..." he spoke softly, afraid her father would arrive any moment. It was that look on her face that dismissed the thoughts from his mind. It was only natural that he hold on to something that was never there, the soft touch of a beautiful girl. What did she have to look forward to in the soot stained rough hands of a poor apprentice.
Elizabeth's fingers began to drum idly on the railing as she looked down, taking a small step forward again. She had noticed him looking at her, more so staring, but she didn't mind. His dark, warm eyes seemed to give her a reassurance that she lacked. Her smile grew from a half one, to a full one as he said hello to her. "How many times must I insist you call me Elizabeth?" She asked, the tone of her voice nothing shy of pure happiness. Something about his smile just seemed to radiate to her; she didn't care whether or not he was a poor boy begging for a coin, or someone like her father's men. He was just, Will. Someone she could confide in under any circumstance. She just wished it was so easy to be open with him. Her father barely ever gave her time to breathe; let alone to spend any time with anyone other than him and their 'ranked' companions. She really didn't want that. Not anymore. Why did she have to hide her thoughts...her feelings...her self? Perhaps she feared the outside world more, as the world was ever changing. This lifestyle was her security blanket...but it was a cold one. "You've come to see my father I assume?" She asked, knowing that would have been his reason. "He shouldn't be gone terribly long...though, I'm not sure where he has run off to." Elizabeth confessed.
He nodded slightly at her explanation for her father's absence. It was unusual though, for him to be kept so long, perhaps the governor understood that he guest was merely little Will Turner, no one of importance "I understand, he's a very busy man.." Too busy to see the pain he causes his daughter, locking her up like this gilded cage. He offers forward, slightly, the box which he holds. "Your father asked for another piece, he seems to like my.. master's work. It is very nice of him though, to leave me such wonderful company Ms.. Elizabeth." He caught himself short, if she wanted to be called by her first name, who was he to deny her? I couldn't deny her the world. The thought played across his face as a boyish grin and a small laugh. "Though, I must say, as a hostess, she seems a bit unreachable, high on that staircase as she is.." Her father would probably scold him, maybe dock his pay for the piece, for being so familiar with his daughter, but at the moment, caring was beyond him. He was actually here, in the governor's household, talking to Elizabeth as a friend. Not a servant or a goodwill cause, a friend and he wasn't about to throw that away by worrying about proper behavior.
"Aye; that he is." Elizabeth retorted to Will's comment about her father being a busy man. Too busy for his own good, sometimes. But she had learned to cope with such times as being alone with only her own voice echoing back at her for comfort. Normally humming or singing quietly to keep herself from feeling like she was alone; the sound of her voice made her feel as if to someone she was singing to. Her own sweet escape from reality. Wait, he had just actually called her Elizabeth! That made her feel better; and it made her smile more genuine. "That's quite bold of you to say, Mr. Turner." Elizabeth said with a cocky smirk as he commented about the hostess. Slowly making her way down the stairs, she stepped down to the floor just a few paces from him. "There. Is that more to your liking?" She asked, her hands folded and arms placed neatly behind her. Being this close to Will didn't happen often. Not anymore, anyway. Not with the way the world around them operated on such a strict system of right and wrong. Oh, and as if Norrington or her father would allow it on any given day. Elizabeth despised them for such. "Forgive my manners, Will. You're quite right. It's was rude of me to speak from such a distance." She said with a blushing smile as she looked up toward him. "Ma...may I see?" She asked, gesturing to the piece in his grasp.
Silently, he cursed himself as he felt his chest tightening. Deep breathes.. deep... breathes.. Why did I want her closer? Is it hot in here? Wait.. Mr. Turner? Who's turning the tables now. "I don't know, Ms Swann," He grinned, playfully. "I don't think a saber is much interest to a proper lady.. but then again.." He gave her a serious, thoughtful look, as if he was deciding whether she was a proper lady or not. "I suppose it couldn't hurt to let you look.. couldn't do much damage in all those skirts.." He laughed softly at her expression, knowing how much she hated 'all those skirts'. Even as a child he suspected that she was the cause for a pair of his knickers were to go missing. Pushing the thoughts aside, he opened the box gently, showing her the fine silver blade with an etched hilt, lying next to it's matching etched scabbard. "I pray it is to your father's liking, it's perfectly balanced of course, my.. master has a fine hand.." Fine hand for the hogs he's passed out with. Fine hand for gambling away all the money I bring in. Fine hand for drinking away the days while he takes credit for my work. "I hope, Elizabeth, that he might continue asking for pieces.. i wouldn't mind... the extra work.." He covered, he couldn't let her know that he really wouldn't mind seeing her smile more often. Some lines just didn't seem like they could be crossed.
"I'm quite sure he'll be thrilled with the craftsmanship." Elizabeth said, trying desperately to ignore his comments about the skirts. Rubbish. She may have been a lady but that didn't take away her quality. It was still a little odd for her being as close as she was now, to Will. By themselves, more over. The maid had went off when Elizabeth started talking to Will. Despite the class difference, each conversation equally deserved the privacy. The Swann's hired help knew this. "I can almost assure my father will continue service with you and your master. The work is exquisite." So woman or not, she knew some about weaponry. Not much granted, but she knew when it looked nice... that was enough wasn't it? "But as for that little skirt comment Will..." She said with a teasing smirk shaking her head lightly. "I really do dislike wearing these bloody things. This style of dress; especially. You must have to master the act of not breathing to be comfortable. You're lucky being a man." She said, her smile quickly returning from her short spree of cockiness. A good man, at that. For the love of god, why must things be so complicated? Especially when she knew what she wanted. Which was all the more reason and probable cause for damnation and complication. It was all a joke to her; the only part was, it wasn't humerous. She slowly reached out to touch the piece, but recoiled her hand back quickly with a smirk. "Maybe I should just, look and not touch. Resist getting hurt that way." She said softly.
It sounded like the sensible plan to him, look, and don't touch. He carefully closed the lid of the box, giving her a small smile. Lot of good it did to be a man if he wasn't the right type of man, the right class of man. "As eager as I am to understand your misery.. skirts were made for those without attractive legs.." He laughed softly at her, grinning. But she did have attractive legs, he remembered that much from her escapades in the knickers, which she still would swear weren't his. This whole time, a speaker was blaring in the back of his mind. You can't be doing this, not with her. The voice screamed at him. They weren't really that different, were they? Both wanting anything but the hand life had dealt them. "New necklace?" he let the words slip before he thought of their implication. Stupid, he scolded himself. Now she's know that he hadn't been looking just at her eyes. no much for noble aspirations. "Do I know the jeweler? The link pattern seems familiar.."
Elizabeth grabbed for the necklace, as if habit when someone noticed. She clenched the golden medallion in her hand, forcing a smile onto her face. "Oh, this? No; it's not new. Not at all. I've had it since I was a little girl...my father gave it to me." Truth, yet not completely. She had it since she was a little girl, only it was Will indirectly who gave it to her. Actually; no; she just took it from him. But it was to save his life. She had to hide it again, she couldn't allow herself to walk back into her obsession with piracy. Not now. Not ever. "I'm not sure where he had it made, though. I wish I could tell you." You could tell him, Elizabeth, you just can't. You choose not to? She questioned herself, before quickly changing the subject back to the skirts. "And excuse me. I happen to have very shapely legs, thank you." She said with a smirk; meanwhile thinking I could show yo- No! You can't even THINK like that! She was disappointed in herself perhaps, for the way she allowed her mind to slip off into an alternative track. An alternative world. Where Will and her were equals to do and say what they pleased. If only it was that easy all around.
"I'm sorry, I'm sure you have lovely legs.." He smiled, but blushed softly to spite himself. "I didn't mean to pry, it just seems so familiar to me.." That can't be my necklace, I lost it at sea.. I'm imagining, it's been so long since I lost it, i wouldn't know it. But deep in his mind, something told him that the necklace was too familiar. "May I see it?" He crossed his fingers hopefully, he had to be sure it wasn't his. He couldn't come so close to the last trace of his family to have it not looked into.
Elizabeth's eyes widened a bit as he asked to see it. Oh, oh this was terrible. She couldn't show him the necklace. "You'd like to see it?" She mimicked softly, pushing a smile back onto her face, taking the evident of flush colour from shock off her face. She went to open her mouth, however, the door of the manor opened. Into the house walked Elizabeth's father with his right hand man so to speak; in check. Mr. Tunner, a delight to see you. Elizabeth heard him say with a small smile, as he looked toward Elizabeth. "Good afternoon Father. I was just entertaining W-...Mr. Turner until your return. I hope you don't mind." She said, which her father gave a nod. Perfectly alright Elizabeth, you may go back to your engagement. He said. She never was so grateful to leave Will's side as she was now. It was too close for comfort...far too close. She needed to hide the medallion...far out of his sight, and out of her mind. It was his. But it was a part of him she wanted to keep. It had such meaning...it was a pirate medallion; as well. She knew this. She smiled to Will, as she nodded to him. "Good day Mr. Turner." Elizabeth said graciously, as she grabbed the skirt of her dress, raising it just above her ankles to walk without falling. Heading up the stairs slowly, she rarely looked back, her heart was pounding as if she ran from one end of Port Royal to the other; only it was nerves. Not from anything else except those damnblasted nerves.
He wanted to follow her, to find out why that necklace was so important to her. but he couldn't. Instead he smiled politely, commenting on Elizabeth's being as charming as ever. He stood, watching patiently as the governor opened the box, examining the sword and sheath. He wanted to scream at the man as he complemented his master for all of his hard work. Surely anyone who knew him, knew his shaky booze soaked hands couldn't give that glow to metal. But the Governor was as blind to Will as he was to his daughter's distress. He thought to ask then and there if he could make something else to suit his needs, but didn't want to sound presumptuous. Instead, he assured the governor that the pleasure was his and they would look forward to doing business with him again before slipping out the door. He rounded the corner of the house, out of the sight of the watchful doormen and leaned against the building drawing long, labored breaths. He wanted nothing more to chase after Elizabeth up those stairs, but instead he was looking up toward where he thought her room might be. She always did that, gave him hope where he should have none. But more so today, somewhere, something deep inside him knew that medallion. It might not be his father's, but it had to have come from somewhere similar.. perhaps if she would be open with him, he could still have a chance at finding the truth about his father's fate after all these years. He gazed up the side of the building, toward a room where the windows had been pushed open. Wouldn't it be something if it were her room... if he could just call out to her.. "Elizabeth," the name, barely above a whisper, slipped out before he knew it. He pressed his body tight against the building and listened, in case anyone had heard him.
[[There be's chapter one you scurvy dogs. *Lol* There will be more to come. I promise.]]