Prologue: Daddy's Little Girl
Disclaimer: The concept of 'Pirates of the Caribbean' and its characters do not belong to me. Alicia Webster, her daughter Tamsyn, and the crew of the 'Camille' do belong to me, aside from Bootstrap Bill Turner.
Author's Note: Yes, this is another story in which Bootstrap Bill escapes from his watery prison before his son lifts the curse. My reasoning is thus: even though Bill sent his medallion to Will in England, he was still claimed by the curse. After all, the mutinous crew of the Black Pearl remained cursed, even after the gold was spent. And while it might have taken Bill sometime to get himself free, I also think it likely that he would pull himself up by his bootstraps (no pun intended). Whether he intended to or not, with that act of defiance, he placed Will's life in danger. He would want to protect his son, and he couldn't do that at the bottom of the ocean. It was sheer timing that Jack reached Port Royal before Bill did. . .at least for my purposes.
"Must you go, Papa?"
William Turner was almost to the door, when the wistful little voice stopped him. The man turned and faced the owner of the voice, swallowing hard as he did. The English sailor reached his hands out to his five year old daughter, saying hoarsely, "Come to Papa, Camille." The little girl ran to him, needing no further encouragement. He lifted her into his arms until he could look into her hazel eyes.
She inherited her eyes from her mother, this precious child of his. Her mother, whom he treated so shamefully. But there was still such trust in Camille's eyes, it made William's throat ache to see. He sat down in a chair, wishing more than anything he could take Camille from this place. But he was newly-married, and he was not yet enough of a man to tell his beloved Rosamunde that he had a child by a whore.
Rosamunde didn't deserve that, and nor did Camille. Rosamunde was only eighteen years old, too young to deal with her new husband's illegitimate daughter. And Camille was just a baby herself. It was all too likely that her step-mother would punish her for her father's sins. Her father's sins, not her step-mother's, and not her own. William looked at his daughter, his brown eyes drinking in each line, each curve of her small, serious face. He said hoarsely, "I must go, my Cammy. One day, I will come back for you. I promise you. I will come back for you. Until that day comes, I ask you to do something very important for me." Cammy bobbed her head and William continued, "Look after your mother. She loves you very much." Just as I do.
"I will, Papa. Uncle Jack? Will you take care of Papa for me?" Camille asked the dark-haired boy standing behind William. Jack Sparrow stepped into the light, a gentle smile seemingly at odds with his fearsome appearance. Or what was supposed to be fearsome. William always thought he looked rather silly, and didn't hesitate to tell his friend so. Jack responded that was the idea. It led people to underestimate him.
"Of course I will, darling. Your papa is my friend. And you are my angel. How do you know you are my angel?" Jack asked, his dark eyes dancing with laughter as he scooped the girl from William's arms and twirled her around. Camille giggled. William rose to his feet, watching his daughter and best friend. The shuffling sound told him that the three of them were no longer alone.
"Cause I don't gotta call you, 'Capn Jack,' that's why!" Camille answered gleefully. William dipped his head to hide his smile, but it was then that Camille's mother stepped up. And suddenly, it wasn't so difficult to hide his smile. Looking at Julia, smiling wasn't even an option. She bore little resemblance to the beautiful, sassy girl he met six years earlier. He fell in love with her, and asked her to marry him when she told him about Camille, but. . .
Julia said, her voice hoarse, "I sometimes think 'bout the day ye asked me to marry ye." William looked at her as Julia continued, "I knew I weren't good enough for ye. I thought there would be a day when ye would tire of me, when I would embarrass ye." William started to protest. He was merely a sailor, a sailor and a pirate! Julia silenced him by saying softly, "I thought ye deserved better than a whore who didn't know her own da's name."
William again started to speak, to tell his former lover that she was wrong about him, wrong about her, but Julia wasn't finished. She went on, "I were right, but for the wrong reasons. Ye ain't like me da. Me ma was a whore, just like me. But Cammy, she'll grow up different. She got a father who loves her. And she'll be a lady when she grows up, no matter what it takes."
"She shan't allow that," William answered, understanding what his former lover meant. Julia would ensure her daughter's future, even if she had to sacrifice her place in her daughter's life. But he also knew that Camille wouldn't allow that. She was just as stubborn as both of her parents. If he closed his eyes, he could see Camille in twenty years. Beautiful, strong, and determined. For the first time, he wondered if he was right about not telling Rosamunde. Camille would make a wonderful big sister, and she was a very protective daughter. She would not allow her mother to disappear from her life.
"I ain't givin' her a choice. Bill, ye and Rosamunde are gonna have chillern. Don't be comin' back for Camille 'til I give the word. If ye love our girl, don't!" Julia whispered almost desperately. Feeling betrayed, the young pirate stared at the mother of his child. She was asking him to walk away from his child? From his little princess, from his angel? Julia continued, her voice barely above a whisper, "Yer a pirate, Bill, somethin' that is gonna hurt Cammy, and ye knew that!"
Now he saw her plan, in its entirety. She would rob their daughter of both of her parents. And in a queer sort of way, it made sense. Camille was the daughter of a pirate and a whore. It would be hard for her to make a good marriage, the kind Julia had in mind. William looked at his daughter, saying softly, "I will make no promises. They do not know the truth in England. Rosamunde only knows that I am a sailor. There is no need for Camille's suitors to know!"
"No promises, Bill, then I ain't gonna tell ye when I die. And I am gonna die, we both knew that. If ye don't promise, ye ain't never gonna see Cammy again! Ye hear me? Never!" Julia threatened. William stared at her, his mouth dry with shock. She didn't mean it. She couldn't! Leave their daughter an orphan to make her a lady? The illness ravaging Julia's body was destroying her mind.
"Bill ain't gonna be back, Jewel. But I will," Jack said, sounding much older than his fifteen years. William looked past his friend. Barbossa arrived during his conversation with Julia, and Camille was happily sitting on the lap of 'Uncle 'Bossa.' Satisfied that his little girl couldn't hear them, William turned his attention back. Jack looked deadly serious as he stared at Julia. He repeated, "I'll be back, savvy? And you know me, luv. Cap'n Jack Sparrow always keeps his word. Always."
When Jack talked like that, Bill had no trouble at all believing that he would become Captain one day. There was a hardness, a coldness, that should be present in the voice of no fifteen year old, even one who spent his life as Jack did. When he sounded like that, you forgot the foolish appearance, because only a fool underestimated Jack Sparrow, whether he was captain yet or not.
Jack touched the back of William's shoulder then, and added in an almost gentle voice, "Now go say 'g-bye' to yer little angel, Bill. Ye will see her again. I promise." William swallowed hard, and walked over to his daughter, who was happily playing with his shipmate's fingers. He didn't hear the conversation between his old friend and his former lover. He didn't want to hear it. Barbossa saw him approach and lifted Camille from his lap.
Camille reached her arms out to him eagerly, then frowned. She touched his face, saying, "Papa, why are you crying? Don't be sad!" He loved this child so much. He knew he and Rosamunde would have children, yes. But Camille was his first-born, the child born of his youthful foolishness. As William Turner settled his daughter on his hip, he was only twenty-three years old. No longer a boy, but not entirely a man either.
"Because I love you so much, Camille, and I will miss you more than words can say. If you remember nothing else, remember that, my Cammy," William answered. Camille peered into his eyes, as if searching for something in particularly, then patted his cheeks in an attempt to comfort him. When that didn't work, she wrapped her arms around William's neck. The young sailor buried his face in the little girl's dark hair.
She would always be his daughter. . .his only daughter. William didn't know how he knew that. But he knew that he and Rosamunde would have only sons. He kissed Camille's dark hair one last time, whispering, "I love you." Then he set her on her feet and stumbled from the house, from this miserable hovel, for the last time. Barbossa went with him. William couldn't turn back, or he would be lost eternally. His heart felt as if it was being torn from his very chest.
Barbossa gently put his hand on William's shoulder, murmuring, "Easy, lad. Gotta pull yerself up by yer bootstraps. Only thing ye can do when a woman betrays ye like that." William swallowed hard, and Barbossa continued with a smile that could almost be teasing, "Then again, that's a good name for ye, lad. It's what ye done ever since we met ya. Pulled yerself up by yer bootstraps. Bootstrap Bill, ye are!"
Disclaimer: The concept of 'Pirates of the Caribbean' and its characters do not belong to me. Alicia Webster, her daughter Tamsyn, and the crew of the 'Camille' do belong to me, aside from Bootstrap Bill Turner.
Author's Note: Yes, this is another story in which Bootstrap Bill escapes from his watery prison before his son lifts the curse. My reasoning is thus: even though Bill sent his medallion to Will in England, he was still claimed by the curse. After all, the mutinous crew of the Black Pearl remained cursed, even after the gold was spent. And while it might have taken Bill sometime to get himself free, I also think it likely that he would pull himself up by his bootstraps (no pun intended). Whether he intended to or not, with that act of defiance, he placed Will's life in danger. He would want to protect his son, and he couldn't do that at the bottom of the ocean. It was sheer timing that Jack reached Port Royal before Bill did. . .at least for my purposes.
"Must you go, Papa?"
William Turner was almost to the door, when the wistful little voice stopped him. The man turned and faced the owner of the voice, swallowing hard as he did. The English sailor reached his hands out to his five year old daughter, saying hoarsely, "Come to Papa, Camille." The little girl ran to him, needing no further encouragement. He lifted her into his arms until he could look into her hazel eyes.
She inherited her eyes from her mother, this precious child of his. Her mother, whom he treated so shamefully. But there was still such trust in Camille's eyes, it made William's throat ache to see. He sat down in a chair, wishing more than anything he could take Camille from this place. But he was newly-married, and he was not yet enough of a man to tell his beloved Rosamunde that he had a child by a whore.
Rosamunde didn't deserve that, and nor did Camille. Rosamunde was only eighteen years old, too young to deal with her new husband's illegitimate daughter. And Camille was just a baby herself. It was all too likely that her step-mother would punish her for her father's sins. Her father's sins, not her step-mother's, and not her own. William looked at his daughter, his brown eyes drinking in each line, each curve of her small, serious face. He said hoarsely, "I must go, my Cammy. One day, I will come back for you. I promise you. I will come back for you. Until that day comes, I ask you to do something very important for me." Cammy bobbed her head and William continued, "Look after your mother. She loves you very much." Just as I do.
"I will, Papa. Uncle Jack? Will you take care of Papa for me?" Camille asked the dark-haired boy standing behind William. Jack Sparrow stepped into the light, a gentle smile seemingly at odds with his fearsome appearance. Or what was supposed to be fearsome. William always thought he looked rather silly, and didn't hesitate to tell his friend so. Jack responded that was the idea. It led people to underestimate him.
"Of course I will, darling. Your papa is my friend. And you are my angel. How do you know you are my angel?" Jack asked, his dark eyes dancing with laughter as he scooped the girl from William's arms and twirled her around. Camille giggled. William rose to his feet, watching his daughter and best friend. The shuffling sound told him that the three of them were no longer alone.
"Cause I don't gotta call you, 'Capn Jack,' that's why!" Camille answered gleefully. William dipped his head to hide his smile, but it was then that Camille's mother stepped up. And suddenly, it wasn't so difficult to hide his smile. Looking at Julia, smiling wasn't even an option. She bore little resemblance to the beautiful, sassy girl he met six years earlier. He fell in love with her, and asked her to marry him when she told him about Camille, but. . .
Julia said, her voice hoarse, "I sometimes think 'bout the day ye asked me to marry ye." William looked at her as Julia continued, "I knew I weren't good enough for ye. I thought there would be a day when ye would tire of me, when I would embarrass ye." William started to protest. He was merely a sailor, a sailor and a pirate! Julia silenced him by saying softly, "I thought ye deserved better than a whore who didn't know her own da's name."
William again started to speak, to tell his former lover that she was wrong about him, wrong about her, but Julia wasn't finished. She went on, "I were right, but for the wrong reasons. Ye ain't like me da. Me ma was a whore, just like me. But Cammy, she'll grow up different. She got a father who loves her. And she'll be a lady when she grows up, no matter what it takes."
"She shan't allow that," William answered, understanding what his former lover meant. Julia would ensure her daughter's future, even if she had to sacrifice her place in her daughter's life. But he also knew that Camille wouldn't allow that. She was just as stubborn as both of her parents. If he closed his eyes, he could see Camille in twenty years. Beautiful, strong, and determined. For the first time, he wondered if he was right about not telling Rosamunde. Camille would make a wonderful big sister, and she was a very protective daughter. She would not allow her mother to disappear from her life.
"I ain't givin' her a choice. Bill, ye and Rosamunde are gonna have chillern. Don't be comin' back for Camille 'til I give the word. If ye love our girl, don't!" Julia whispered almost desperately. Feeling betrayed, the young pirate stared at the mother of his child. She was asking him to walk away from his child? From his little princess, from his angel? Julia continued, her voice barely above a whisper, "Yer a pirate, Bill, somethin' that is gonna hurt Cammy, and ye knew that!"
Now he saw her plan, in its entirety. She would rob their daughter of both of her parents. And in a queer sort of way, it made sense. Camille was the daughter of a pirate and a whore. It would be hard for her to make a good marriage, the kind Julia had in mind. William looked at his daughter, saying softly, "I will make no promises. They do not know the truth in England. Rosamunde only knows that I am a sailor. There is no need for Camille's suitors to know!"
"No promises, Bill, then I ain't gonna tell ye when I die. And I am gonna die, we both knew that. If ye don't promise, ye ain't never gonna see Cammy again! Ye hear me? Never!" Julia threatened. William stared at her, his mouth dry with shock. She didn't mean it. She couldn't! Leave their daughter an orphan to make her a lady? The illness ravaging Julia's body was destroying her mind.
"Bill ain't gonna be back, Jewel. But I will," Jack said, sounding much older than his fifteen years. William looked past his friend. Barbossa arrived during his conversation with Julia, and Camille was happily sitting on the lap of 'Uncle 'Bossa.' Satisfied that his little girl couldn't hear them, William turned his attention back. Jack looked deadly serious as he stared at Julia. He repeated, "I'll be back, savvy? And you know me, luv. Cap'n Jack Sparrow always keeps his word. Always."
When Jack talked like that, Bill had no trouble at all believing that he would become Captain one day. There was a hardness, a coldness, that should be present in the voice of no fifteen year old, even one who spent his life as Jack did. When he sounded like that, you forgot the foolish appearance, because only a fool underestimated Jack Sparrow, whether he was captain yet or not.
Jack touched the back of William's shoulder then, and added in an almost gentle voice, "Now go say 'g-bye' to yer little angel, Bill. Ye will see her again. I promise." William swallowed hard, and walked over to his daughter, who was happily playing with his shipmate's fingers. He didn't hear the conversation between his old friend and his former lover. He didn't want to hear it. Barbossa saw him approach and lifted Camille from his lap.
Camille reached her arms out to him eagerly, then frowned. She touched his face, saying, "Papa, why are you crying? Don't be sad!" He loved this child so much. He knew he and Rosamunde would have children, yes. But Camille was his first-born, the child born of his youthful foolishness. As William Turner settled his daughter on his hip, he was only twenty-three years old. No longer a boy, but not entirely a man either.
"Because I love you so much, Camille, and I will miss you more than words can say. If you remember nothing else, remember that, my Cammy," William answered. Camille peered into his eyes, as if searching for something in particularly, then patted his cheeks in an attempt to comfort him. When that didn't work, she wrapped her arms around William's neck. The young sailor buried his face in the little girl's dark hair.
She would always be his daughter. . .his only daughter. William didn't know how he knew that. But he knew that he and Rosamunde would have only sons. He kissed Camille's dark hair one last time, whispering, "I love you." Then he set her on her feet and stumbled from the house, from this miserable hovel, for the last time. Barbossa went with him. William couldn't turn back, or he would be lost eternally. His heart felt as if it was being torn from his very chest.
Barbossa gently put his hand on William's shoulder, murmuring, "Easy, lad. Gotta pull yerself up by yer bootstraps. Only thing ye can do when a woman betrays ye like that." William swallowed hard, and Barbossa continued with a smile that could almost be teasing, "Then again, that's a good name for ye, lad. It's what ye done ever since we met ya. Pulled yerself up by yer bootstraps. Bootstrap Bill, ye are!"