Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean is a wonderful franchise that is not affiliated with me in any way. It follows, then, that the characters featured in the film do not belong to me. I'm sure Disney won't be upset if I borrow them for a bit, eh?
Author's Note: Ack! It's been almost eleven months since I updated! I apologize profusely, and I bequeath Will Turner shaped soaps to all those who have stuck with me.
"Grandfather, if I ask you a question, will you promise to answer me honestly and not question why I am asking it?"
"Of course, my boy." Jonathan was normally very serious, but Weatherby Swann saw a look of concern in his grandson's face that went quite beyond his usual solemnity.
Jonathan was silent.
"Go ahead, Jonathan." Governor Swann urged, his curiosity piqued.
"Is my father a pirate?" The words escaped before Jonathan had time for further consideration.
The Governor swallowed. He was a politician, and therefore a skilled rhetorician, but even he had little way to talk his way out of this quandary. He felt the boy's eyes on him, eagerly awaiting an answer.
"Your father is a good man, Jonathan. I would not have entrusted my daughter to him if he wasn't." He finished with a weak smile.
Jonathan had opened the bag and he was not about to let the cat be shoved back inside. "Are you, then, telling me that he is not a pirate?"
It was ironic that Jonathan sought the answer to this inevitable question with his grandfather. Weatherby was, in fact, the principle reason why Jonathan had not learned of his father's profession before. He had allowed Elizabeth and Will to marry, even knowing that the young man was forever destined to a life of piracy. Understandably, however, he did not want the illegal activities of his son-in-law known, and therefore had done his best to conceal the knowledge of them from the general public. The officials on the island were financially compensated in return for ignoring William's indiscretions to the law. Above all, Weatherby instructed, any children they might produce should never be told of their father's lifestyle, for fear that they, too, might choose the same dangerous path.
Sighing, the aging man closed his eyes. "He is a good man, Jonathan- and a pirate."
Jonathan's throat was suddenly as dry as dust and his eyes wide. "I-I must go. Thank you." He stammered.
As the boy walked shakily out of the library, his grandfather rubbed his temples. He had just told his grandson that everyone he had ever trusted in his life had lied to him, and there was no ignoring the pain in his eyes.
Jonathan's initial shock had transformed into seething rage by the time he arrived at his home. Exploding out of the carriage before the driver had even come to a complete stop, he trampled up the front steps, his brown eyes flashing. He threw the door open and, ignoring his mother's questions, marched hastily toward his father's study.
"How dare you?" Jonathan blurted, not giving his father the opportunity to greet him or protest the intrusion.
The elder Turner blinked, confusion spreading across his face. "Jonathan, what are you—"
"Damn you! Damn you and your pathetic sea merchant stories! Are you even my father, or did you lie about that, too?" His nostrils were flaring, and his voice was unnaturally loud.
Jack Sparrow. It was the only explanation for his son's sudden outburst. If he could explain away Jack Sparrow, he could calm him. It was simple.
"What has Jack told you?" Father asked son, his voice steady.
"It doesn't matter, I wouldn't believe a bloody thing that came out of that man's repulsive mouth. When my own grandfather tells me that I've been lied to my entire life, and that my father is not, in fact, a respectable man after all, but a stupid, bloody pirate, it's quite another story!" The words cascaded from his lips with little thought.
William inhaled slowly, regretting the past twenty-one years in a moment. "Jon, son, you know we would have told you...it was for your own good that that particular bit of information was withheld."
"For my own good, father? It was for my own good that you didn't tell me that you were a buccaneer, every day risking your life and abandoning any sense of honor for a chest of coins? Were you intending to wait until you were standing at the gallows before you told me? Oh, no, you probably would have waited until my own neck was strung up for harboring a thief in my midst and I was standing next to you in purgatory before you finally explained anything!"
"You are over-reacting!" Will's own voice was raising as he listened to his son fling accusations about his character. He was a pirate, yes, but not a villain, and he didn't deserve to be addressed as such. "We didn't tell you because we didn't want you to follow in my footsteps! Do you think I'm proud to be a pirate? No! But it's in my blood and I can't escape that. I tried to once, and failed miserably. But you are the grandson of a governor...you have opportunities that I never had as a young man! Your blood has been diluted. Telling you what I am would only encourage you to—"
"Do you really know me so little, father?" Jonathan's voice was quiet now, disturbingly so. "You are my father, but that doesn't mean that I have all of your faults."
As Will struggled to prevent the horrible outburst that was very close to escaping, Jonathan snorted and stormed out of the study, slamming the door behind him.
Anyone who was in the Turner household at the time of this argument could not escape eavesdropping. Two grown men yelling in full voice was not a common occurrence, and it shattered the silence that usually draped the marble hallways.
Elizabeth, of course, was horrified. Not only of her son's revelation and uncharacteristic fit, but also of her husband's response. She could not decide whether to scold or comfort Jonathan, so she settled on reprimanding William first.
"William Turner, how could you?" Will's face was crimson from anger, and his wife's chiding tone was the last straw.
"Please, Elizabeth, not now!" He admonished, and brushed past her figure in the doorframe. His heavy footsteps echoed as he stomped down the hallway and out the front door, presumably to find relief in a pub.
Jack Sparrow listened to the scene play out with a bemused smile from the stair banister. He was in a right jolly mood, for he had just finished a bottle of sherry with his two favorite maids. The family's quarrel gave him the entertainment he craved after such fine drink.
More to come! I heart reviews! They help me overcome writer's block.