Title: Dragonfly

Author: Muse a.k.a. Viorith

Rating: R for sexual content and violence.

Pairing: Will/OFC, Jack/Anna-Maria

Feedback: Hell to the yeah!

Archive: Ask first please_

Disclaimer: I own nothing associated with PoTC, I'm just playing with them. I do own Sabine. So please ask if you want to play with her.

Summary: Sabine has loved Will since she was 16, but since his eyes were for Elizabeth only, she settled for his friendship. A year after the curse is lifted, Sabine now needs him to teach her the way of the blade so she can avenge her father's death on a man that once called himself his friend.

Chapter 11

Will sat with his back pressed against the wall of the room, his legs drawn to his chest and his arms resting atop his knees. Near his bare feet was the blanket and pillow that constituted his bed from last night. He had walked into the cabin shortly after the end of the first watch to find Sabine sound asleep on it, and wasted no time picking her up and putting her into the bed. His first thought had been to climb onto the mattress behind her, to hold her body close to his as he had done on the Leda. But the memory of her revelation chased him from her side to the very uncomfortable makeshift pallet.

The thought of his actions were enough to make him physically ill. His chest tightened, his stomach churned and his eye threatened to fill with tears that were not his to shed. He tried to force the memory of that night, but the harder he tried, the more it slipped from his grasp.

Had he forced himself on her? That thought alone forced him to clamp his trembling bottom lip between his teeth. That was the worse thing about the memory gap. The knowledge that he had taken her most precious gift and couldn't remember, broke his heart, but the possibility that he had raped her finally pulled the tears from his eyes.

He had promised her father, promised her he would take care of her. He was the one that was supposed to protect her, not the one she needed to be protected from. He stared at her and wondered how he could ever get her to forgive him, to trust him again. He would do whatever it took, for however long it took. He had lost Elizabeth, he couldn't lose Sabine as well.

He wiped the wetness away from his cheek and watched his friend sleeping. His arms still folded on top of his knees, and his chin resting on top of them. He noticed the white bandage around her left hand from where the surgeon had lanced the blisters, then wrapped the wound, but it wasn't on her hand that his eyes lingered. Before bedding down last night, Sabine had unwrapped the cloth from her breasts, and try as he might to keep his attention adverted, the blacksmith's eyes were drawn to the opened collar of her shirt.

He wondered what her breasts had felt like in his hands, if he had taken the time to awaken her senses, or if he had just taken. More than anything he tried to reason what was different about that night, than other nights he had been intoxicated on wine. It may have been the first time he was drunk on rum, but definitely not the first time he was drunk. And not the first time he had been drunk around Sabine when they were alone.

He sighed softly and rest his forehead against his arms. He thought of Elizabeth, wondered what she would think if she learned what he did. He thought back to her engagement party, then to when she visited him in the shoppe. He remembered how she offered herself to him, and couldn't help but wonder if he had taken her, would the night in Tortuga have happened. He remembered how she told him his feelings for Sabine were changing. He raised his head to gaze upon her and was startled to find her awake and staring at him.

She said nothing, just laid there silently staring at him with large onyx eyes. He watched her watching him, and there was so much he wanted to say. Beg her forgiveness, profess his stupidity. He wondered what she was thinking. Did she hate him as much as he hated himself?

"I'm sorry," he hating how utterly plain it sounded. It didn't begin to express the regret or the turmoil he felt, but he could think of no other words.

She continued to stare at him, the only movement that of her blinking eyelids.

"I know you may not believe me, and I have no right to ask for your forgiveness, but... did I hurt you?" he paused and dropped her gaze, the weight of her eyes causing his vision to mist over. "I know I caused you pain, and that I broke your trust along with your heart, but if I... if I forced myself..."

"You didn't," had her voice been any softer he wouldn't have heard her words.

Relief flooded over the young blacksmith as he brought his eyes back up to hers. Never in his life had he been so thankful for something as he was to hear those words. The betrayal had been limited, but the damage that was done was severe enough. So severe, he was worried the wound might not ever heal.

Still looking into her eyes, he moved away from his position against the wall and crawled the distance to the bed. He wanted to touch her, he was close enough to, but he didn't.

"The bed is yours for the duration of our voyage. I'll sleep on the floor." he whispered, rose to his feet, and left her alone in the room.

~~~

The crew was changing for the forenoon watch by the time Sabine emerged to the upper deck. Anna-Maria stopped by the cabin shortly after Will's departure to deliver her a camisole. It didn't hold her breasts as tightly as the banding had, but it wasn't as uncomfortable either. She also brought Sabine another dose of the sea seasickness concoctions. Unlike the first she had sipped from the flask, this was in a tin cup and contained pieces of hard tack that had soaked up the liquid. The bread made something already vile in its own right taste even worse, but her stomach no longer lurched with even ebb of the boat.

Taking another page from the female pirate's book, Sabine opted to leave her hair down, only securing it with the kerchief fastened about her head to keep the wind from blowing it across her face.

She had pushed Will's words from early out of her mind, after making a deal with herself. She would keep her mind focused on the duties her new life would demand, and only to dwell on Will during the time she was in the cabin, or during the night when the absence of light made it easier to pretend she wasn't a pirate. During that time she could pretend the ship she was on was baring her to Spain where she would become apprentice to a great painter. However, the deal it would prove, was far easier to settle with than to practice.

By familiarity, or chance, his was the first face her eyes fell on. He stood on the quarter deck with Anna-Maria, who was at the helm. Anna-Maria took no notice of her, checking the winds and the course and continuing her conversation to a man that was no loner aware she was still talking. She stood near the railing of the ship, watching Will, watch her.

He was still beautiful to her, but then she had come to accept that he would probably always be beautiful to her, despite her feelings for him. His dark hair was pulled back, as usual, away from his face. The absence of it made his eyes seem brighter; made him look less like the pirate that plundered her virginity, and more like that blacksmith she had trusted all her life. She no longer felt the rage and anger that provoked her to strike him last night, but her feelings, nor her heart had been mended by his contrition in the cabin that morning. Where anger had reigned, confusion and sorrow now resided. Confusion at where they were, sorrow at the lost of what they had been.

Will's eye shifted a split second before Sabine heard her last name barked into her ear.

"If you're going to daydream stay in your cabin. When you're on my deck you're focused and alert, is that understood?" Jack chastised.

"Yes sir," she answered making a conscious effort to hold her ground and not back away from the man. His height was only an inch over hers, but his presence and forcefulness put him well over a foot.

"Aye Captain," he corrected in a softer tone, "When we're at sea it's aye Captain, not yes sir."

Sabine nodded and tried to ignore the casual glances in her direction from the other members of the crew.

"Good, now, you see that crow's nest up there?" the Captain asked pointing up to the round holding on the top of the main mast. "I want you to go up there and look out for other ships until the first dogwatch."

The young artist turned her eyes up, her head rising until she reached the destination that was to be hers for the next eight hours. "You can't be serious," she protested turning her eyes to Jack.

The infamous grin split the pirates lips, "Oh indeed I am, missy. Step one on your road to life as a pirate."

She shifted her gaze back to the mast and swallowed the lump rising in her throat. Of all the terrifying things she thought she would have to do as a pirate, none included climbing a mast that lead dozens of feet into the air, with nothing but a wooden deck to break her fall.

"Isn't there something else I can do?" she questioned softly, a slight tremble in her voice betraying her inner fear.

"Perhaps you're right," Jack pondered, one finger tapping his bottom lip as he feigned deep thought. "Young Mr. Turner already told me you've never been on a ship before, so Ship's Master and Sailing Master is out of the question. I already have a Boatswain and I doubt you've ever fired a gun before so Master Gunner is a no go as well. How are you on carpentry?"

"I do not know carpentry," she answered tersely, fully aware she was being mocked.

"Doctoring?" he suggested, "Any surgical skills?"

"No."

"Oh that's right, young Mr. Turner also told me you were an artist in waiting," he stated as if he just made the revelation. "A practical skill to be sure if I were having my portrait done, however, under the circumstances not very useful."

"I'm a quick study," she said in her defense. "And I can cook."

"We already have a cook, luv," Jack informed, "No, you can apply your services up in the crow's nest, or below deck cleaning out the bilges."

"In the¼ bilges?" she questioned.

"Aye, the bilges," he repeated with a grin, "The very bottom of the ship as it were. Water can't be pumped out so it must be scooped, and the integrity of the hull must be observed to make sure the bilge rats haven't chewed through."

She cocked an eyebrow at him defiantly, "If you are trying to scare me Mr. Sparrow, it won't work I've dealt with rats before."

"Not bilge rats you haven't. They feed on each other when they can't get to food, no doubt they would find your legs a tasty, tasty treat."

Sabine had no fear of mice or rats as other women did, and she was positive the pirate was simply trying to scare her; unfortunately he was succeeding. She might not have been afraid of rats, but they certain were no friends of hers, and she had heard stories of little children being waken by rats biting them in bed. The devil I know, or the devil I don't, she rationalized silently, once again shifting her focus to the crow's nest.

"What must I do?"

"The front of the ship is her bow, the rear is the stern, the left is her portside, and the right is starboard. You see a ship you shout it out along with what direction she's approaching from, understood?"

"Aye Captain," she muttered softly moving to the rigging she needed to climb to take her to the perch above.

It wasn't a paralyzing fear, but she still found herself repeating not to look down over and over. The rope netting swayed under her weight and the wind, and her grip tightened on the ropes until her knuckles ached.

"Are you mad," Will accused approaching Jack, "I told you she was terrified of heights."

"She seems to be doing fine."

Both men looked up to see Sabine had made it almost halfway up to the first landing of the mast that held the fighting deck. Her movements were the slow and deliberate movements of a person not used to climbing roping, and terrified of falling at any given moment.

"I didn't tell you she was afraid of heights so you could exploit her fears."

"Let's pretend, just for fun, that I'm the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow, and you're a blacksmith. Let's also pretend that since I am the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow, that I know slightly more about what makes a pirate and what doesn't, than would say¼ a blacksmith that's only been pirating once."

A deep frown creased Will's brow as he listened to the pirate.

"Let's also pretend that it was this same blacksmith that came to the afore mentioned pirate pleading for his--"

"I catch your meaning, Jack," Will interrupted coolly, "But that doesn't erase you forcing her to do something she is afraid to do."

"Yet she's doing it marvelously."

Both men looked up to see Sabine had reached the fighting deck and was contemplating the best way to make it to the crow's nest. Sabine took no notice when Will left the quarterdeck to join Jack below, nor had she heard the words exchanged between them. For the time being, Will had been successfully removed from her mind. She clung to the mast, softly murmuring 'Hail Mary' over and over.

"Only a little further to go, luv," she heard Jack call up. Even at that height, she could hear the merriment in his voice.

The grin on Jack's face quickly sobered when he turned back to see the still very unhappy expression on Will's. "Oh, come on lad, I had to do it."

"Why?"

"Because like you said, she's an artist, not a pirate."

"But her father was," Will pointed out.

"So was yours," he countered, the added, "Listen William, everyone's afraid of something, and it's my experience that people handle that fear one of two ways, they either freeze in the face of it, or confront it. I needed to know which personality the young missy has. There's a very good chance that while I'm teacher her to be a pirate, she might have to act like a pirate. Would you rather have her freezing now, or staring down the barrel of a pistol?"

Will turned his attention back up the mast in time to see Sabine begin the final leg to the crow's nest. There was nothing he could do, and what was worst, he wasn't sure if she would have accepted his help if there were. I've made such a mess of everything. I never should have brought her here.

"You can't be there to protect her from everything," Jack stated as if he were able to read the young man's thoughts. "Especially if this is the life she's chosen."

That said, the pirate turned and focused his attention on the other members of his crew, barking orders and making sure everything were ready in the event they happened upon a ship that needed to be lightened of it's load.

~~~

Sabine sat at the desk in her cabin, a sheet of paper laid neatly on the slightly scarred wood, along with two oil lanterns and a small tub of ink that slowly moved from side to side with the rocking of the ship. In her hand, the young woman tapped the end of the writing quill to her lips, her eyes staring out the window to the almost glassy surface of the sea.

As promised at the beginning of the dog watches, Jack called Sabine down from her lofty peak, a decent that took twice as long as the ascent had. Once she got close to the bottom, she tried to ignore Will standing there, ready to reach up and help her the rest of the way down, but she might as well had tried to ignore the sea. They had gone below to practice her blade work, and three hours later she had retired to the sanctity of her room. She set out to write a letter, but the only words she had gotten down were the date and 'Dear Gezana'.

She had only been away from the island that was once her home for a matter of days, but she felt as if years had passed. There was so much she wanted to tell the woman that had been like a mother to her, yet that maternal link stayed her hand. She wondered what Gezana would think of her lost virginity, wondered if Gezana would be as disappointed in her as she was in herself.

She knew she could have stopped Will. Even in his drunken state he would have stopped, but she hadn't wanted him too. Will's kiss in the cabin of the Leda had pulled to the surface all those feelings she struggled to keep buried deep. And even when she should have hated him, her desire for him was trying to come to life again. Halfway through their sparring, after both of them wrung in sweat, Will had removed his shirt, and she had to force her eyes not to linger on his exposed torso.

Even as her eyes were trained to the black waters, it was the sweat glistening on Will's tan skin, and the muscles corded under the surface that Sabine saw. The temptation to give into the familiar had threatened to consume her whole, fortunately their time had come to a close before she was forced to surrender.

A quick rap on the door pulled her mind from the sparring session and back to the present.

"Come in."

Anna-Maria entered the room, a bowl of stew in her hands. She moved to the desk and set the bowl down, her eyes glancing at the blank page.

"A letter?" she questioned, leaning one hip against the table and crossing her arms over her chest.

Sabine hesitated for a moment, trying to decide if she should acknowledge that she spoke Spanish. "Eventually," she answered.

"You should keep something in your stomach," the female pirate stated nodding to the stew. "It will help with the sickness."

"How do you know all this?" she questioned. She dipped the spoon into the stew and brought it to her lips for a taste. It lacked the season and spices she was used to, but as the warm liquid slid down her throat it reminded her she hadn't eaten any real food since before they left Tortuga. Bland or not, she was grateful for the stew.

"I used to get sick," the pirate admitted, then added, "Still do from time to time, that's why I carry her," she pat the pocket that contained the flask Sabine drank from yesterday, grinned, then removed it and sat it on the desk. "Once you get your sea legs, you won't need this remedy as much, but until you do..."

Anna-Maria gave an ambiguous wink and turned back for the door. Sabine picked up the flask, her thumb smoothing over the dent in the front.

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

With her hand on the knob, the older female turned to face her younger counterpart, "Because you're letting me," she answered before ducking out of the room.

Sabine continued to sit at the desk for several more minutes. Her eyes shifted from the flask, to the sea, then finally came to a rest on the blank parchment. With a soft sigh, she stood, blew out the fire in the oil lanterns, and made her way to the bed.

~~~

On the upper deck, Will watched as the light in his cabin was extinguished and the moon became the only illumination reflecting on the water's surface. He closed his eyes, his right fingers seeking out his throbbing temple for a gentle rub. He was convinced the pounding in his head was from his unrelenting thinking, but it was impossible to shut his mind off.

He thought of Sabine, of the horrid manner in which he treated her, and the possibility that their special bond was severed beyond repair. He tried to imagine his life without her in it, and was surprised at his reaction. It was the same reaction he had the day Elizabeth told him she was marrying Norrington, and he couldn't help but wonder when the quiet African-Spaniard had secured herself so completely in his heart. More than ever Elizabeth's prediction of his feelings for Sabine echoed in his head. Was he in love with her? And if so, was it possible to love two women at the same time, or was he mistaking the familiarity of being in love with Elizabeth, for love.

"Bugger," he whispered and began massaging the other temple.

"Care for a nip?" Jack gave Will a nudge and offered a swig from the bottle of rum he drank as he joined him on deck. "Guaranteed to clear that headache right up."

"That's what got me into this mess."

"Correction mate, you're the reason your in this mess. The rum just gave you a nudge."

Will opened his eyes long enough to roll them at the pirate before turning back to the point on the sea that would have been lit by lights from his cabin. "I never would have slept with Sabine had I not been drunk. Elizabeth was right, it is a vile drink."

Jack remained silent for the longest time, watching the man that had once been nothing more than a pirate hating, uptight blacksmith. Chance had forced him to trust the one thing that he despised. He thought it humorous that on their first encounter, the love of a girl had Will forsake his righteousness, and embark on a life he otherwise hated, and that now another girl had him walking that same path.

"What's so funny?"

Jack looked over surprised, not realizing his amusement had taken on vocalization. "It's just a little over a year ago we were in a similar situation," the grin on Jack's face slowly faded under the stern look from Will. "The whole pirate thing, I mean," he added.

"This is different," Will stated softly.

Silence fell between them again, Will's mind racing a mile a minute, Jack's trying to formulate his questions. It was obvious the lad needed to talk, and just as obvious he had no idea how to start. It occurred to Jack, that while, William was named after, and was the spitting image of Bootstrap Bill Turner, there was where the similarities ended. Will was much more pensive and reflective, and Jack imagined just about everything the young man did was well thought out and planned for. Even his spontaneity had a controlled feel to it.

"Why do you feel bad about sleeping with Sabine?" Jack questioned.

"What do you mean?" Will countered with a frown.

"Well do you feel bad because you don't remember doing it, or is it because you never wanted to shag her," Jack paused, letting his words sink in before adding, "Or is it because she wasn't Elizabeth?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded, his defenses instantly rising to the bait.

"This time last year you were willing to die for a girl-- almost did die for a girl-- and now a year later, you are sailing with yet another girl, a different girl from the first. I find myself wondering if you're not with the different girl because the first girl is getting married. And maybe, just maybe you feel guilty not because you shagged the different girl, but because you only shagged the different girl, because you can't shag the first girl."

"I love Sabine," Will defended, not wanting to admit to Jack, and certainly not wanting to admit to himself that he wondered the very same thing.

"Of course you are, and I love Anna-Maria, but to love someone and be in love with someone are two totally different animals, mate."

Slowly, the angry glint in the blacksmith's eyes relented as he lowered his gaze. "And how do you tell the difference?"

"Your father once told me he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was in love with your mother."

"He did?" Will's words were quiet, his throat constricting with emotion as it usually did at the mention of his father.

"Said he knew he was in love because he would wake alone on his ship, and she was the first thought in his mind. He said leaving her was the hardest thing he'd ever done, but he did it for her."

Jack pat the younger man's shoulder and pushed away from the railing ready to make his way below deck to his cabin, and his woman.

"Jack," Will called halting the pirate's retreat, "You said you loved Anna-Maria, but you didn't say if you were in love with her. Are you?" he questioned, his curiosity getting the better of him.

At that, Jack gave a smirk, "Being in love is a costly pleasure," he answered cryptically, "One few pirates indulge in."

Alone again on the quarterdeck, Will turned his attention back to the sea. The underlined warning of Jack's words took root in his heart, as did his words from earlier. There was a point in time when Elizabeth had been the first thing, the only thing on his mind. His day, his entire world revolved around her. Even after he resigned himself to accepting he could no longer be with her, he never stopped thinking about her on some level until that faithful night at Sabine's. Now it seemed his mind wanted nothing more than to go back to the night they arrived in Tortuga, when he woke on the Leda with her in his arms. It had felt natural, like that was where he was supposed to be, the only place he belonged. For the first time in his life he felt completely at peace.

He was aware he always felt at his ease around Sabine, while Elizabeth's presence always lent to a certain nervousness in his stomach. He had thought that was the sign that he knew he was in love, because of the tension she created within him. Never had it occurred to him that love shouldn't rob him of his appetite, nor make him self conscious and completely aware of his every action in her presence. Never had he realized until that point, that perhaps it was Sabine in which his heart should have sheltered in, not Elizabeth. She was the one that had always been there for him, the one that always made him feel welcomed and loved and needed.

He finally left the deck, heading below to his cabin and entering it as silently as the squeaking hinges would allow. She laid on the edge of the bed closest to the door, the light from the corridor illuminating her sleeping face. There was enough room on the other side of the bed for Will to slip under the covers, but he made a promise, and he meant to keep his word unless he received and invitation.

He approached her and bent down, his lips whispered a kiss against her temple, before he removed his shirt and pants, and laid upon the makeshift floor mattress of extra pillows and blankets. He had to make things right between them, no matter what, or how long it took. He alone had created the rift, and it was up to him to find a way to mend it.