Will had felt somewhat uncomfortable leaving Elizabeth alone in the house after that dream which had obviously been so traumatizing for her, but he was already late in opening the shop (which was now officially his after the death of old Mister Brown), and Elizabeth, his dear 'Lizabeth had insisted he go after she had gotten herself together again. He went, because if there was one thing Will had learned in his year-long marriage, it was that when Elizabeth got that look on her face, where her eyes narrowed just so and a tiny little crease appeared between her brows, there was absolutely no use arguing with her, because any further opposition would just strengthen her resolve. Yes, he left, but not without worry, and not without a plan.
Step One: make sure Elizabeth has no idea of Plan – well, that was taken care of, as she'd all but shoved him out of the door to the smithy, and probably suspected he was going to spend the day with only a quarter of his mind on the work and the rest of it worrying about her. Which, Will admitted, he probably would, but, considering what he was planning on spending the day working on, the percentages would be reversed.
Will walked in the smithy to find old widow Harrison already at work, sweeping, dusting, and generally tidying up the place. Luckily, he was all caught up on commissions and it seemed that no one had come by yet today, so his lateness wasn't too reprehensible. He hung his hat on the hook, turned the sign in the window, and gave her an apologetic smile at the lateness of his entry, to which she replied with a gentle "you haven't been late one day for years, Mr. Turner. Everyone deserves an off day."
If there was a way to get old widow Harrison upset at anyone or anything, Will hadn't yet seen it.
Step Two: make sure no one else has any certain idea of what he was up to either, except for old widow Harrison. That was easy enough too, he'd just let everyone who came in with a commission know that he was already working on a very important piece, and it would be more than his life was worth if he didn't finish it by today. All true, and not so remarkable that anyone would do more than grumble half-heartedly and say they could wait then – because next time it might be their "very important piece" he was working on. Selflessness was always the most prominent when there was a very selfish reason for being so. He couldn't hide from widow Harrison because she knew very well he had received no such commission, and while she would not press the issue, there would be a definite second-rate quality to the cleanliness of the place until her curiosity was satisfied – it wasn't really that Will couldn't clean the smithy as he'd been doing since he was apprenticed and do the actual forging, but he had to admit that ever since old widow Harrison had showed up one day with a broom, a rag that had to be at least as old as she was, and an iron determination he had been able to get in twice the work as he had when Mr. Brown was still the "Master" smith, and that had meant he had been able to by a proper house for his 'Lizabeth, and not have her share the tiny closet of a room above the smithy that had been his home since he lived in Port Royale.
"Morning, Mrs. Harrison," Will said as he pulled off his jacket and put on the heavy leather apron custom to his trade. "I'm not going to be able to take many commissions today Mrs. Harrison. Elizabeth seemed a bit distressed this morning, and I'm going to make her something to get her out of her mood."
Widow Harrison smiled, transforming her face into a network of winkles and gave him a fond look. "You mean to lift her spirits with a pretty trinket then, young Will? You two haven't been fighting, have you?"
Will laughed a bit as he searched his inventory for the right metal to use in Elizabeth's gift. "No, Mrs. Harrison, we haven't been fighting. 'Lizabeth jus seemed upset this morning, and I'm meaning to put a smile back on her face, that's all."
That earned another fond smile and a wistful sigh. "If there ever was any doubt to a body if young Mrs. Turner chose wrong in taking a blacksmith over the Commodore, you just proved them wrong, young Will. You make your lass a trinket then, and if forge enough love into it with that hammer of yours, she'll forget what was troubling her in a heartbeat, mark you me."
Will grinned at her, and hefted the silver ingot he had finally selected. "Thank you, Mrs. Harrison. That's what I'm hoping will happen."
Step Three: make present for Elizabeth, and make it perfect. He had originally intended for this to be her birthday present, which was coming up in a few weeks, but 'Lizabeth needed something to coo over now, and in a few weeks time he could make another birthday present. Hopefully the combination of this present and the company of her friends would be enough to lift her from her mood (he'd never known she had a sister).
At first, the women had been quite reserved around Elizabeth, not knowing how to treat a governor's daughter, even if she was just a blacksmith's wife now. Enough time, though, and they had taken Elizabeth into their fold like a mother bird welcomes and errant chick. She had more friends now that she had ever had, he was sure, and sometimes Will would come home to a veritable flock of women in the sitting-room. He never asked what they were speaking of, but the sudden silence as he entered and the resulting flurry of talking, as well as the sly looks and frequent blushing led him to hazard a few guesses.
Will worked until closing time, and by then Elizabeth's gift was just barely ready to give to her. He picked up the now-cool amulet and studied it for any hint of a flaw. Finding none, Will smiled, and threaded it on one of the many chains he always had ready. He was running low on the thin silver ones, he noticed as he lifted the almost-last one off the hook where he kept that particular type. Next time he had some free time, he'd have to make some more.
Step Four: on the way home, buy some of those seedcakes Elizabeth was so fond of. It was a little-known addiction, and Will had stumbled upon it quite by accident, but Elizabeth's fondness for the little cakes had been very useful knowledge for the course of their marriage. More than one time he'd come home after they'd been fighting, properly repentant and bearing gifts of appeasement that certainly sped up the process of forgiveness much more than if he'd come without them.
The woman who sold the cakes knew this well enough by now, and had stared putting some cakes into a little paper bag as soon as she saw Will's very recognizable face strolling down the street in her direction. He smiled a bit ruefully when he saw the sack already waiting for him, and overpaid for the cakes.
"Am I that predictable already, Susanna?" Will asked with that hurt puppy look of his that never failed to warm even the hardest heart, and didn't now.
"Aw, g'wan, ye 'opeless li'l blacksmith!" The words were harsh, as the little shooing hand motions, but the tone was anything but, and the smile that she was obviously trying to hold back gave the lie to her words. "Ah swear," She said with a mock scowl that was almost a grin, "Ah don' know 'ow yer lass puts up wit' ye – or why Ah do!"
"Because you love me, of course," Will replied with an impish grin and ducked to avoid the playful slap the shopkeeper sent his way. He snatched the bag from the counter where it sat and backed away, giving Susanna a grand, playful bow, sweeping the ground with his hat. "Fair Susanna, whose pastries are grand enough to feed a king!"
Will replaced his hat to Susanna's laughter, and that of any other bystander who had caught the little mock-drama, and strolled home in a much more cheerful mood. Teasing Susanna was an old ritual between them – he'd known her since they were both little, and if he saw her as an easy-going older sister, well-adjusted to teasing, she saw him as a rascal of a little brother, to be playfully tolerated and treated like much more of a nuisance than he actually was.
When Will entered his house, his gifts weighing heavily in his jacket pocket, it was just in time to hold the door open for Elizabeth's friends as they left. He offered a polite greeting and farewell to each of them as they passed, but, judging from the downright speculative looks he got from most of them, it was probably a very good thing that they didn't really say much.
"Elizabeth?" Will ducked his head into the kitchen, and, finding a definite lack of Elizabeth, went on into the living room to find her sitting on the couch with a wistful look.
"Lizzie, darling," Will sat down next to her and put his arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder. "Are you feeling better now, love?"
"Mmm." Elizabeth leaned into his embrace. "And if I'm not?" She teasingly asked him, knowing that Will's methods of cheering her up were quite enjoyable.
Will grinned against her neck, a smile she felt rather than saw. "Well, than I'd guess it's a very good thing I bought these on the way home." Will reached in his pocket and brought out the bag of seedcakes which he then playfully dangled in front of her face.
Elizabeth snatched the bag from his hand, eliciting a startled yelp from Will, and proceeded to devour the treats. The expression on her face was somewhere between a "cat-with-the-cream" look and an "I've-died-and-gone-to-heaven look", and was only highlighted by the crumbs scattered around her lips. Will watched her with a fond (and slightly goofy) grin, his arms still loosely wrapped around her waist. Eventually, Elizabeth looked at him, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"What?" she asked. "What is it? Do I have something on may face?"
Will shook his head, and lightly took her chin in his hand, effectively stopping Elizabeth in her search for a mirror.
"Have I told you today that you're beautiful, love?" Will pulled her close to him and buried his face in the crook of her neck.
"Not today you haven't m'dear." Elizabeth pulled away and gave him a mock-reproachful look, before shaking her head and tsk tsk-ing at him. "Very poor form that is, Will. And you, married for a year already!"
He chuckled, and pressed his forehead to hers. "Then I must make amends for that, shouldn't I? Elizabeth, darling," here he pressed a light kiss to her forehead, "you look," a kiss to each eye next, "absolutely," then one to the nose, "positively," now the right cheek, and then the left, "stunning." Will pressed a kiss on her lips, which started out innocent enough but quickly progressed into something that was anything but.
Right about the time Will was wondering if they could make it up the stairs without actually having to stop kissing, Elizabeth's second present jammed into his thigh, dangerously close to his crotch, and quite emphatically reminded him of its existence.
"Ow!"
"Will?" Elizabeth looked up, all – well, mostly – worry. "What happened?"
"It's nothing," he replied with a wince, rubbing his leg where the until-now-forgotten amulet had jabbed him. "Actually," he removed the offending piece of jewelry and held it out to Elizabeth, "it's this. It's for you – I was going to give it to you after the cakes, but, well, we …"
"… Got distracted." Elizabeth finished with a wry grin, and took the necklace from his hand. She held it up in front of her face, gasping softly as the amulet unwound from the chain and hung unobstructed before her eyes.
"'Lizabeth?" Will looked like he was trying to decide if that was an "oh-it's-beautiful" gasp or a "Why-on-earth-would-you-think-I'd-like-this?" gasp – which he was. "D'you like it?"
"Do I like it, he asks," Elizabeth murmured softly while she brought the amulet closer to her. "He gives me the moon on a chain and he asks me if I like it." She looked up at a very nervous Will, and smiled in very distant way before saying "Will, it's perfect, no, no it's more than perfect. It …" She looked up at him again and smiled again, not distantly at all, but as brilliant and as beautiful as the sun reflecting off the sea. "It … reminds me of my … of Kate, you see. She … she always … always had a … a soft spot for birds." She stroked the amulet when she talked, running her fingers over the wrought silver that was more a suggestion of a bird than an actual likeness of one –as if vaguely incorporating all birds into a tiny shape no more than an inch across rather than picking and choosing any one specific one. "I … I think she may have loved them almost as … almost as much as she … loved the ocean." As she spoke, she had to pause several times, and Will was afraid she was starting to cry again.
"Elizabeth …"
She looked up one last time, and yes, those were tears glittering in her eyes, but there was a different feel around her this time. Before, she cried tears of remorse and guilt – tears that stained without ever actually cleansing – these tears were happy ones, insomuch as tears based on sadness could be happy; tears of remembrance and regret, and a love that shone through so strongly Will didn't know how he could have ever not guessed at it, or how Elizabeth had managed to keep it hidden for all these years he had known her – or why she would need to.
She shook her head and placed a finger over his lips, still smiling though she was crying, crying though she was smiling. "Shh, shh Will. It's okay, I'm alright now." Somehow, even when all the evidence pointed against it, he believed her – not to say he'd stop worrying, but he knew, in the back of his mind, that she would be okay, because she was alright, mostly. "It's just, now I need to talk, Will. There are … things … I need to get off my chest. Things I think I've been holding in for … too long, maybe. If you could … just … listen, and … please, don't say anything … until I'm done? I … don't know If I'll be able to" she paused, swallowed and went on talking again with that determination that Will knew so well "to … get it all out, otherwise. Please?"
Will looked at her, with her expression equal parts pleading and resolve and shimmering eyes, opened his mouth, and then closed it on finding the English tongue did not possess the words he wanted to say to her. He settled for a nod, and pulled his beloved to him, turning her so her back rested on his chest and her head nestled beneath his chin. She sighed and snuggled back into him, and if Will felt a dampness on his chest where her head now rested, he made no mention of it.
"Thank you Will, that … means much more than you could ever guess." Another sigh, this one more resigned than thankful, and Elizabeth began her story.
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Yes, I'm evil. I know. Mwahahahaha. On an off note, many, many thanks and virtual cookies to: Try wearing a corset (love the name), Quof, Ankle, Legolas, FrannieGurl2006, psychotermite, spirits of otherworlds (or NiM & empress), Rouge Sparrow, and Opal Lynn. I love you all. Special thanks to Try … corset for being the first reviewer, and to Opal, for the longest review yet.
Well, that's it, really. If you love me, you'll tell your friends about this story (or give me a better summary – as I said, I suck at them). Ta!